Love to Hate You

by Jo Watson

  “Are you decent?” Becks called from outside.

  I pushed Ben back, “Uh, um … I …” I closed the robe and looked at Ben as he tried to adjust the rock hard package that looked like it was going to rip through his jeans at any second.

  “Just a minute, Becks, I’m having a quick chat to Sera,” Ben cleared his throat and said in the most professional-sounding voice. I stared at him, waiting and watching for his body to return to normal, but when it didn’t, he quickly sat down in a chair and crossed his legs.

  “You can come in now,” he called out.

  Becks stuck her head around the door and I hoped my face wasn’t as red and flushed as it felt.

  “Hey.” She looked at me. “You okay? That guy got totally pervvy there.”

  “Fine,” I said quickly.

  “I’m glad you stopped it,” Becks said looking over at Ben.

  “Well, I would have done that for any of my staff. Someone crosses a professional line like that then …” Ben’s voice trailed off and then he shot up out of his chair—all had returned to normal—and exited.

  “Bye. I’ll see you guys later.”

  39. Eleven-O’Clock Girl …

  We’d gotten back to our new hotel a few hours ago already and Becks hadn’t left my side. She was currently sitting on my bed babbling about her ex-boyfriend and a whole bunch of stuff I wasn’t even vaguely interested in, because all I could think about since leaving the shoot was Ben.

  My phone beeped just as she had started telling me about a guy in college that she still had feelings for.

  Ben: Is she still there?

  Sera: Are you spying on me?

  Ben: Yes.

  Sera: Well then you know she’s still here.

  Ben: I can’t stop thinking about you …

  Sera: ;) Me too.

  Ben: When the hell is she going to leave?

  Sera: Doesn’t look like any time soon.

  Ben: Come round to my place tomorrow night after you’ve finished your shift?

  Sera: Okay.

  Ben: So it’s a date?

  I tried not to smile.

  Sera: Fine. You win. It’s a date.

  Ben: About fucking time. P.S. You’ve got me so turned on right now I think I’m going to have to take care of myself.

  I half choked slash spat out my wine.

  “What?” Becks asked looking curious. “Bad news?”

  I shook my head. “Nooo. Just, just … you know?”

  “Men?” she asked pointedly and then looked me up and down.

  I nodded and “uummed” at her, as if we were sharing some girl bonding thing. Something very unfamiliar to me. I’d missed out on the whole teen girl late night gossip thing years ago while I was fishing my drunken father up off the floor and working so that the family could eat. Another message pinged on my phone.

  Ben: You could always come over later and help me?

  This time I tried not to splutter and show the redness that I’m sure had just flushed across my cheeks. I put my phone away and wished that was the case. The last thing I wanted was to be sitting here having small chat.

  Sera: I’ll see you tomorrow night after work.

  Ben: I’ll be waiting up for you.

  The next day passed in such an exhausted haze. We all woke up early and headed out to the desert again where we watched Giovanni taking pictures of various car parts. Then we caught that same tin can to the international airport, then flew all the way back to Johannesburg and said our goodbyes at the airport. It was Sunday, so at least we’d all get a bit of rest before work in the morning. I landed up catching a taxi back home, I’d secretly been hoping that Ben could take me, but he had a family thing this afternoon.

  When I arrived home I had the house to myself. JJ and Bruce were doing the stocktake and I was only too happy to wiggle out of that one. I was also feeling rather anxious about seeing Ben later, and it would be sooner than he’d expected. He’d forgotten that I didn’t have work on a Sunday so he’d be seeing me a whole lot earlier than planned. Not that he would mind. I sat and watched the clock until it finally hit 6 p.m. I hadn’t heard or seen him come back, but since it was early evening—technically—his afternoon family thing should be over and I was eager to rush over there and surprise him. I did one last obsessive hair and face check, before rushing out the door to his house.

  But the second he came to the door and saw me, I knew something was wrong.

  I should have turned away and walked back home, but I didn’t.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He seemed totally distracted and glanced behind himself nervously, as if someone was in his house. “I thought you were going to work tonight.” His tone was strange, I’d never heard his voice like that before, nor had I ever seen the strange, almost unreadable look that played on his face.

  “I don’t have work tonight.” I studied his face in silence and it was very obvious that something was up.

  “Ben?” There was a desperation in my voice that I couldn’t hide.

  He said nothing. An invisible force punched me in the stomach and I knew something was very wrong. My suspicions were confirmed when Ben crept out and closed the door behind him quietly—What was he hiding?

  “Now is not really the best time,” he said. “I’ve kind of got …” He paused and looked guilty as hell. “… company.”

  “Company? Oh.” Images of Angie and Cindy and gold condom wrappers flashed through my mind as I looked at him and tried not to show the utter hurt on my face. Meanwhile, my insides turned to mush.

  And then I heard it, as clear as day …

  “Ben.” A woman’s voice called from inside his flat. My heart started thumping in my chest and suddenly there was a loud buzzing sound in my ears.

  “Uh … is that, a …?” I tried to talk, but my mouth was so dry that the words weren’t coming out.

  Suddenly, Ben lowered his head and his shoulders slumped forward. “You should really go now, Sera.”

  His words hit me like bullets and I took a shaky, unstable step backward.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out towards me as if he was trying to apologize—apologize for what exactly? I’m sorry I fucked you, told you I loved you then flirted with you relentlessly, lead you on and kissed you and pursued you, almost beat a guy up for you and now had been caught with someone else. I didn’t think there was a Hallmark card for that.

  I stepped back again, and held up my hands, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were about to come. “No need. It’s okay. I totally understand.”

  He nodded at me and gave a kind of halfhearted smile that looked like it took absolutely no effort whatsoever. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to take from that.

  “Come back later,” he said—seriously? Now he wanted me to come back later after he’d sexed-up-a-storm with six-o’clock girl. Maybe I was eleven-o’clock girl. Perhaps there was a girl for every hour of the day and damn week.

  “Maybe not,” I said, walking away, feeling more hurt and angry than I knew I should have been feeling. I also felt like a complete idiot for thinking that all the flirting might have meant that he actually wanted me, or wanted only me. But now I knew. I couldn’t blame him really. It was pretty obvious what kind of guy he was right from the start, from the very moment we met. Ben was a hot, dangerous man-whore who kept emergency condoms in his travel bag and said all the right things to women. It was who he was. I couldn’t be angry with him for that—could I? And it’s not like he’d kept it from me, I knew what kind of man he was the second he’d put his hands up my skirt on that dance floor and then fucked me in his car.

  But that didn’t stop me from being furious with myself for having let my guard down with him. I hated myself for it. He was dangerous. A mere warning may not be sufficient in his case; perhaps a worldwide broadcast announcement might be enough. The kind of urgent announcement that interrupts your usual viewing. The kind they might do if the planet was suddenly under attack by an
alien species.

  And what made him so dangerous … was everything!

  I hated him. And I hated the fact that I would have to see him every day at work too. I was dreading Monday morning, and when it finally came around I had a pit in my stomach.

  40. Remain Vertical At All Times …

  When I got down to my car that morning I found him leaning against it. Crap, I forgot about the leaning. I was going to have to tell him that, in my presence, he should remain vertical at all times.

  “You didn’t answer your phone last night,” he said, still leaning. I wanted to kick his feet out from under him and see him tumble to the dirty floor in that expensive-looking, stupid suit—I hated his suits now. I hated those tattoos and those chocolaty eyes, chocolate is bad for you after all.

  “Well, I was busy,” I said, trying to squeeze past him. But he was blocking my path to the door.

  “Listen, about last night—”

  I put my hand up. “I don’t want to hear. It’s okay, no need to explain. Really it’s fine.”

  “Thing is,” he continued, still blocking my way, “I think you might have misinterpreted things somewhat.”

  I edged away from him and walked around the front of my car, but he went around the back and beat me to the door.

  I sighed. “I don’t think there was any misinterpreting that, Ben. You had another woman in your flat, and you were trying desperately to keep us from seeing each other. Correct?” I asked.

  “I did have another woman in there.” He paused and suddenly looked guilty as hell. “But it’s not what you think … It’s just … Just.” He stopped talking and I stood there waiting for more. It didn’t come.

  “Just who?” I asked. “Who? Who?”

  He shook his head, but didn’t answer me.

  “Great! I’m glad we clarified that. I need to get to work.” I started walking away.

  “Please believe me. It wasn’t like that. I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but trust me.”

  “Trust you?” I scoffed. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard a man say ’trust me’? And the thing is, the thing I’ve learnt over the years but somehow forgot with you, or chose to ignore, was that when they do act nice, and they do say ‘trust me’, that is the time you should do the complete opposite.”

  Ben gave me a strange look, as if he was trying to imagine who all these men in my life were that had asked me to trust them. And because I didn’t want him to ask, I tried to pull myself together.

  “Look,” I said calming down. “It’s not just that, I did a lot of thinking last night and I came back to my original conclusion. I don’t date. Ever. And I don’t want to be in a relationship of any kind, with anyone. I can’t, and I have my reasons for that. And I also cannot do anything to jeopardize my job. You have no idea how much I need it. And sleeping with the boss is not exactly a good career move. So please, can we just forget everything that happened and keep it totally professional? Please …” I actually teared up at that.

  “Sera—” he said, stepping closer to me.

  “Stop,” I said. “I’ll see you at work.” I pushed him out of the way of my car door and climbed in. I sat for a while as I watched him walk to his car. As soon as he got in, I turned the key and yes—you guessed it—it didn’t start.

  “Crap!” I screamed as I hit the steering wheel. All the anger, frustration, hurt and jealousy came bubbling to the surface as I tried again and again and again, but nothing. To make matters worse, Ben climbed out of his car and started walking towards me. I climbed out, humiliated.

  “Can I take a look at it?” he asked. “I know a bit about cars.”

  “No, thanks. I can take it to a mechanic.”

  “I don’t think it’s going anywhere. It sounds like the starter motor.”

  “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” I said pointedly. “You don’t want to set a bad example for your staff?”

  “Come, I’ll give you a lift.”

  “Not a chance, Ben! I am not—” I pointed, “NOT. Ever. Getting back into that car again.”

  “How will you get to work, then?”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  I huffed and pulled my laptop bag onto my shoulder and started walking, of course that was just about the most childish thing I’d ever done in my entire life—but hey!

  As soon as I got out of the gate and looked down the street, I realized that I would not be walking to the office, not today, not ever. And Ben’s black car was hot on my heels, winding down its window.

  “Just get in, Sera.” He was sticking his head out the window.

  I walked on stubbornly. “No.”

  “You can’t walk to work.”

  “I can walk anywhere I God damn want to.”

  “It’s ten miles … unless you’re planning on jogging there?” There was a playful tone in his voice now which I did not appreciate.

  “You’re right. I can’t.” I swung around. “It’s far too far. But I can always catch a taxi or wake JJ or Bruce up and ask them to take me.”

  “If you get in the car, I promise we don’t have to say a word.”

  I stopped and looked at him considering it carefully. This was the easiest and most obvious choice or else I would be late for work.

  “Not a word?” I asked.

  “Not a word.”

  I climbed in reluctantly and kept my eyes in front of me without looking in his direction once. But he lied, because as soon as he had driven a little way, he started talking.

  “Sera, there’re some things in my life that are very complicated and messed up and I don’t want to share them with you right now, but can’t we just try and—”

  I cut him off. “Ben. It’s not about last night anymore. Last night actually has nothing to do with it.” That wasn’t really true at all. “There are so many reasons not to do this and they have nothing to do with whoever was in your place last night and whatever state of dress, or undress they were probably in.” That last part had come out in the wrong tone and had a kind of angry, jealous edge to it that I really hadn’t wanted it to have. “You have your secrets; I have mine. And trust me, if you knew what they were, you’d stay away.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel, too,” he suddenly said.

  “Well then we have that in common,” I said.

  “Please, Sera.” He reached out for my leg and instead of smacking his hand away, I let him touch it. He squeezed my thigh and I bit my lip. Why was I letting him do this?

  The car came to a stop and he turned and looked at me. I faced him and our eyes locked. He squeezed my leg and I involuntarily licked my lips.

  I was so fucking angry with him, and yet I still wanted him so badly on every physical level possible. We looked at each other and that bubble was back. I felt myself being sucked into it. Further and further and further …

  The loud honk of a horn behind us made us both jump. The traffic light had turned green and reality came crashing in.

  “What the hell are we doing?” I pushed his hand off my knee.

  “Sera, there’s something so strong between us. An attraction we both can’t fight, a connection we can’t sever.”

  I looked down at my feet. Something was under one of them and I lifted it and there it was. Lying on the floor. A woman’s hairband. I bent over and picked it up. A long black hair was still attached to it.

  “It’s been severed, Ben. It’s been severed.” I tossed the hair band over to him, turned in my seat and looked out the window for the duration of the drive. The conversation had ended, there was nothing he could say right now that would fix this.

  It was over.

  41. The Mafia Or Something …

  The week was awful.

  I had to stare across at Ben all day while listening to how every woman in the office wanted to “F” the living daylights out of him, although Vampira was the only one who came straight out and said it.

  On top of that, it seemed like all of our clients had gott
en together behind our backs and conspired to brief us all in the same week for their massive campaigns. We had print, radio, and TV ads coming out of our ears, and this meant many meetings. Many meetings with Ben. Many meetings where Ben walked around the room—he never sat in meetings—being ridiculously brilliant, coming up with one amazing creative idea after another while everyone just sat and gawked in awe.

  I hated that. I hated having to sit there taking notes pretending I wasn’t hating him, or worse, pining for him.

  Ben wasn’t helping the situation either. On Tuesday, I caught him looking at me longingly from his office like he was a dog that had been left out in the rain, and, for a moment, I totally forgot myself and stared back. When I realized that the look had actually encouraged him and I saw him get up and start walking towards me, I quickly looked away. It was incredibly awkward when he got to my desk.

  “Sera.”

  “Ben.”

  Becks was leaning in by this stage. She had been acting strangely that week too. So had Angie, in fact, since coming back from the shoot, everyone had been out of sorts. There was a strange silence for a few moments, which I feared might arouse her suspicious. Ben eventually broke it. “Did you speak to the client about when we can present the radio options?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did.” I forced myself to look up at him like anyone else would do if their boss were talking to them. “On Friday morning, at ten. I’m sure traffic will put it in your diary,” I said and smiled up at him like a good hard-working employee.

  “Thanks,” he said and started walking away. But then he suddenly turned, “You’re very efficient, Sera. I appreciate it immensely. I really value you.” I saw Becks look up with wide eyes and I was sure Vampira would fly in at any moment. Unfortunately, Angie too happened to be hanging around. I glanced around and could see the eyes looking at me with confusion.

  His eyes flicked around and then he quickly corrected, “And, Becks, you too are highly efficient. Angie, also. Very hard working and all that … . Um … In fact …” He looked around, seeming a little strange now. He was using words I’d never heard him use before. “Everyone is doing a superb job. Really impressive stuff. Keep it up.” Weird pep talk completed, he gave everyone a two-thumbs up—which looked odd—and then disappeared back into his office and closed the door. I watched for a moment and saw him curse himself as he sat down and put his head in his hands.