“Nope. Standard eight million. Uh, it might help if you pay her lawyer fees.”
Blood rose to my face in anger. My fist balled up on the desk, the other almost broke my phone.
“Hell no. You think I’m going to pay her for fucking that gardener?”
“Uh, it was her optometrist.”
“Whatever.”
He cleared his throat nervously. Again, I didn’t mean to yell at the guy, but this was damned ridiculous.
“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll push her tomorrow. I hope I can get her to make her answer to the divorce petition a yes by Monday. I know you don’t want to drag this out.”
“Uh, yeah. Obviously.”
He cleared his throat and I heard the ruffling of papers on his line.
“Look, I know we didn’t really talk about all this. But I’m sorry, man.”
I kind of froze as I blinked in surprise. Levi wasn’t evil, no. But we are not as close as we used to be. In college, we were close. Not just partying, but talking about shit. He was my best man when I married Vivian. We just got busy with work and didn’t get to talk much anymore. When I called, and asked him to help me out with this, we hadn’t spoken for about a year before that.
So, I never really talked about anything besides, ‘I know you’re a criminal litigator but my wife cheated on me and I need to take her down without going to court.’ The media would have a field day if we did, and I am still a decent guy. Couldn’t do that to her, even still.
“Thanks. We can meet up soon, I know life got ahead of us.” I said. He chuckled in response.
“Yeah, that’s for sure. Hopefully I can call you in on Monday with good news. Once the papers are signed, we can get financial in here and theoretically, you’ll be done with her.” He said, I heard the slight smile in his voice.
“Hopefully. Thanks again, I know you’re busy.”
“Don’t sweat it. This is better than almost getting shot every day I walk into court. Speaking of, I have a hearing in ten.”
“Oh, of course. Thanks.”
“No problem, see you.” The line went dead.
I swung back in my chair in frustration. Maybe I would feel better once I got out of my pajamas. Maybe eat something or see some sunlight for once in a blue moon’ well, three days. I checked emails, nothing was dire so I went ahead and left my den and set off for the kitchen.
Of course, I don’t have any food. I shook my head in disappointment, mostly at myself. I took a shower and got dressed in some jeans and a polo so I could run to the café around the block. I went there so much; the cashier knew my order. She stopped writing her number on my cup a few weeks ago.
“You look awful tired today, Tristan.” We got on a first name basis a few months back.
She was very young, college-age tops. And a typical one at that. Trendy dirty blonde hair, blue contacts, and a leaf tattoo on her wrist.
“Little bit, thanks for noticing.” I paid her and stepped to the side, feeling her eyes follow me as I did.
Things were different now. In my mind, I’m not married anymore; I’ve done my signing. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to show that girl a good time, maybe I would feel better. Maybe not better, but far from not having had sex in the past two months.
So, once I ate my croissant club and had my vanilla chai, I headed to the back room, making sure she saw me. She was quick, she met me back there in less than thirty seconds and I gave her everything she had been imagining for seven months.
~
Sure, I had a bit of a pep in my step on the way home so I stopped at my usual barber and got my haircut and wet shave.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, you make my job harder you know.” Tony, my barber who probably faked his Mediterranean accent, pretended to be pissed.
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.” He draped the cloth over me and I relaxed into the chair for a much-needed grooming session.
Perhaps I shouldn’t let myself go too much, but the shit I’ve been under for the past few months was enough for anyone to let themselves go.
“Maybe I do something new, what do you think?” He asked.
I chuckled softly, “Sure. Why not?”
I walked out of there with a new haircut, and decided to keep my beard as a low fade. Made me look wiser, and less like a divorced man at thirty. Maybe that’s all in my head.
I got back to my penthouse and settled in the theatre room, prepared to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. Then my sister called.
“What do you want, Natalie?” I gruffed.
“Ugh,” she scoffed, “I can’t check on my kid brother?”
I sighed heavily, muting the action movie from blaring through the speakers.
“Sure, you can.”
“Whatever. I worry about you, you know? How are you doing?”
I winced. I know she meant well, but I don’t like talking about myself very much. I never have and I probably never will. Yeah, she’s my big sister. She was family. But I didn’t like talking with them about it especially.
“I’m fine. Got a haircut today. How are you?” I tried to turn the conversation away from myself but she wasn’t having it.
“So, you don’t look like a bum anymore? That’s good. How is the divorce going? Did that twat finally sign the papers?”
I cracked a smile. Natalie probably hates Vivian more than I do. Natalie was always like my protector anyway. She is only three years older than me, but she used to beat up the school yard bullies for me. Until junior high when I surpassed her in height and wasn’t the kid brother anymore. Still, she goes to bat for me all the time. Especially with this Vivian situation.
“No, she hasn’t. Levi is hoping to get her on board by Monday though.”
“Good. So, you’ll be at the gala this weekend?” I reclined in my chair, settling in for what seemed to be a long conversation.
“What gala?”
“You know Sasha and Bryan always have their gala this time of year. It’s on Saturday.”
Sasha was arguably the city’s most influential woman. She has been at the head of numerous charities, scholarship funds, and boys’ and girls’ clubs. Her success came from her ability to dig deep into the pockets of the wealthy. Including mine.
“Can’t I just write a check?”
Natalie laughed aloud.
“No, asshole. You should come. Besides, it would look worse if you don’t show. You know the gossip in this circle, everyone knows about you and Vivian.” I let out a long sigh. As much as I hated to admit it, my sister was right. I was sick of everyone in town giving me a pitiful look, as if they understood everything I was going through.
“I know. I guess I’ll go. Just don’t really want to.”
There was silence on her end for a bit, she only got like that if she had to say something she would rather keep to herself.
“What is it, Nat?”
She sighed.
“Why don’t you just tell everyone the truth? People think you got divorced because you were running around on her.”
“Because, what good would that do? None.”
Yeah, once gossip hit the mill, Vivian was right on top of it. She made up elaborate stories of how I would go on fake business trips, come home smelling like other women late at night. She wanted to maintain her perfect girl image, and she was completely fine with throwing me under the bus to achieve that. I was never one to get wrapped up in all of that, I just hated how it messed up my parents’ image. They were respected in the city, big time real estate investors responsible for half of the state’s development. So, everyone knew about them, and after Vivian’s shit storm with the media, they quickly learned about their fuck-up son. I never said anything about it because I knew Vivian, she only wanted a rise out of me and she wasn’t going to get one.
“Yeah, but it would make things easier for you.”
“Not really.” I sighed.
“Well, you should bring a date. Not those tramps you pick up at clubs. You know,
Penny is still single.” I rolled my eyes. She had been trying to hook me up with her receptionist for almost two years now.
Natalie is a board-certified psychologist, and has published a bunch of research papers I kept promising her I am going to read. She’s successful. And she kept trying to play matchmaker.
“I’m good.”
“Come on, she’s cute! Or are you done with brunettes?”
“No. Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.” I said sternly. Downside of having a psychologist for a sister, I was her first patient.
“I’m not. But you should come in for a session. Maybe you’ll open up a bit if it’s more formal.”
I didn’t say no right away. I had a lot holding in that I would rather not hold onto anymore, but I wasn’t sure I could tell my sister yet. Or anyone. I barely knew my own thoughts that flickered in my own head for most of the time.
“Maybe. Aren’t you at work right now?” I asked her. It was late afternoon on a Friday, she usually had patients booked up to close.
“Not for an hour. But we should have dinner. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“You saw me three days ago. And what about Kit Kat?” I could hear her frown and it made me chuckle.
“Kevin. His name is Kevin.” She hated when I called him that. I couldn’t help not liking him, anyone who dates my big sister has to jump through fiery hoops to win her over. “And he is away on business, remember?”
Oh. No wonder she was bothering me. She’s just lonely. Kevin was a medical sales rep, so his job kind of had him running around a lot. I think they’ve been dating…four months now. Five?
“Right. Sure, we can have dinner. I’m not leaving the penthouse though.”
She giggled.
“Okay. I’ll bring our favorite. See you!” She hung up, her chipper voice ringing in my ear.
I finished off the rest of the movie. The new one about fast cars with the guy from Breaking Bad. I suck at names. It was about seven, and then my mother called me. It must have been bother Tristan day. There are at least three every week.
“Hey, mom.” I answered.
“Honey, you sound so tired. I thought you didn’t even work anymore.” I rolled my eyes. Selling a company off doesn’t mean I don’t work anymore.
“I know. I’m not tired.” I lied.
“I wanted to check on you. Did you get you invitation to the gala? You still need it to get in. Natalie told me she spoke with you.”
“Yeah, we’re having dinner tonight. I didn’t get an invitation though.”
“Look in the mail.”
My mom’s voice was very soft and soothing, she hadn’t asked me anything or even given me any advice and I already felt better. I went to the mail opening at my door, sure enough I found a gold bordered, eggplant colored invitation to the charity gala. This one was for a scholarship fund to underprivileged kids.
“I found it.” I told her.
“Good. I’m glad you’re seeing your sister tonight, you know she gets lonely easily. With Kevin being gone and all.”
I nodded to myself.
“Yeah, she does.”
“And how about Vivian?” I still cringed at the sound of her name. Crazy.
Ten years ago, when we first met I was head over heels for her, thought she was the one for me. Then money changed her—she got implants, micro bladed brows, lip injections, injections everywhere pretty much. It was my money too, not that it mattered. I thought I was just helping her in her quest to feel beautiful. Little did I know I was making it easier for her to find someone else.
“What about her, mom?” I couldn’t hide the frustration in my voice. How many people would ask me about this woman today?
“Did she sign the papers? It has been weeks.”
“I know. No, she hasn’t. Levi is trying to get her to sign by Monday. I want to be done with it.”
“I know, honey. We do too. It’s really too bad what she told everyone, when your dad and I hear about it we try to set people straight.” She scoffed. Her otherwise soft and easy voice was strained. I hated when mom worries, especially when it was over me.
“Don’t worry about all that, mom. People will think what they want.”
“I know, but they shouldn’t. You’re such a good boy. And you’re the one that got hurt here.” She insisted.
“Yeah. But really, don’t worry mom.”
“I’ll try. Your dad is on the deck with a cigar, he’ll probably call you later.”
“Uh, please tell him not too. I’ve had enough phone calls for the day.”
She laughed aloud.
“Tristan, stop being so rude. Anyway, I’ll tell him you are with Natalie. I just wanted to check on you. And you are coming to the gala, right?”
“Yes, of course mom.”
“Good. If you need me to find you a date, I can…”
“No, I’m okay. Thanks though.” I silenced that idea quickly. With my luck, she already had three people lined up.
“Okay, if you insist. Be nice to your sister.” She said, her stern tone breaking through.
“I will. Talk to you later, mom.”
“Bye honey, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Maybe I should be grateful I even have family willing to bother me all day. I was being overdramatic, but when everyone kept asking about my ex, what am I supposed to do? Part of me wanted to call her and dish out all of the choice words I have for her, but that would be stooping to her level and I won’t give her that satisfaction. After all of this nonsense, I don’t even think I’ll ever date again.
Chapter Two: Emilia
I was going to need a stronger allergy medicine in this line of work. I couldn’t really complain though, I was lucky to finally have this shop, even if it was slightly small. Everything was finally up and running.
I clipped the roses and put them in their vases, lining the back wall, and then I worked my way up. The gardenias were next, and then the tulips. The flowers were blooming so well, spending my last bit of investment on that green ceiling was worth it. I didn’t have to come in and flower them as often, and they got just the right amount of sunlight.
Now all I needed were people to buy them. The hardest part was over, I guessed. Building the place up, getting a lease, commissioning flowers and growing my own consistently enough. But now, people would have to buy them so I could pay the bills. I seemed to be in a constant tug of war with paying bills, since I was twelve and my mother…
I couldn’t think of her now. I would be holed up for the rest of the day. A decade and a half later and it still hurt.
“Emilia! Emilia!” I smiled at the voice.
Dan was a sweet neighborhood kid who liked to help around the shop. But I recently found out it was his grandparents that were my most loyal customers. I started selling fresh flowers from my backyard back in college, and a kind lady started buying them from me. Every fresh bloom, then every week, then every day for the past seven years.
“I’m here.”
Dan appeared behind the azaleas. He was growing really fast, he is almost taller than me now, and his boyish looks are fading to a more handsome one. He looked just like his grandmother, Sasha. Brown hair, brown eyes, soft features.
“Nanna needs a big order.” He slipped me a piece of paper.
“How big?” I asked, before looking at the paper. When I did, I almost fell from the ladder.
“Oh my, a gala?”
He nodded.
“Another charity ball. She needs an entryway and…well, it’s all there.” He was right. She gave him a layout of the whole place, and marked where every flower should go.
“Um, when is this happening?” I asked him.
“Saturday.” He said casually, as if that wasn’t just two days away. I was wondering how the hell I would pull this off, but I couldn’t let him see that.
“Okay, great.”
“You need any help?” he offered. He was already in his school uniform, so I was sure h
e had places to be.
“No, thanks. Maybe for the gala. One day I can actually pay you.” I smiled. He waved me off and slung his backpack back over his shoulder.
“Now worries, Emilia. I’m glad to help!” He was out the door before I could protest.
I kept working. There was actually a lot to do, and I just kept postponing it. But by the end of the work day I had organized all the flowers, trimmed down their stems, and prepared the usual orders for Sasha.
She usually came by in the morning. Maybe she would explain more about this charity ball happening on Saturday. I put my oversized sweater on, and locked up before I started the short walk to my studio apartment. Really, it was right around the corner and only took me one song to get there. Once inside, I popped in a frozen dinner and took a quick, hot shower. And it actually had to be quick because the hot water only lasted a few minutes.
It was a dingy place, but it was mine. The one small window I had was lined with an array of plants, daisies mostly because they were my favorite. Right next to it was my bed, well it was just a mattress and box spring with a quilt I made from old tee shirts, but it was comfortable. I had a small bedside table that mostly held a bunch of clutter, and a small couch that only held laundry I refused to fold. My television was my laptop, and the kitchen might as well be the bathroom. Yeah, not much. But it was all mine.
Once I settled in with Netflix and my lasagna, I called Ivy. She and I had been friends since high school. These days, that was a really long time. We went to the same college, the state school here. Iowa had good schools regardless.
“Hey, I was just about to call you!” Ivy had such a chipper voice, I wondered how she could always have so much energy.
Her job was way more stressful than mine. She was an up and coming designer and assistant, which meant she had to be at her boss’s beck and call, planned all the shows for him, handle orders, then find time for her own designs.
“How odd, how was today?” I put her on speaker and settled into the couch.
“Ugh, horrible. I just now got back. I was about to find something to eat. What about you? How is the shop coming?”
I just got into the official shop space last week, I had been working out of the makeshift greenery I made of the roof, behind the landlord’s back.
2X The Hear Page 11