by Amanda Cowen
Ever since I left Ben high and dry that night, at the Green Mill Pub, he has not once tried to contact me; but I haven’t tried to contact him either. There has not been one phone call or text or email between the two of us. Which is crazy, because in all the years I’ve known him, I don’t think either of us, has ever gone this long without talking to one another. I try to remind myself not to be too bothered by his blatant disregard, because I know deep down, I was the one who purposely blew him off.
But there was a moment last Wednesday, when he strolled into the office around two in the afternoon that I finally thought about approaching him. I watched him greet everyone with his gorgeous white smile as he cascaded down the rows of cubicles and I hated him for looking so good. He wore a charcoal grey suit with a crisp white shirt and paisley print baby blue tie with flecks of grey. He passed by my desk, and I locked eyes with him, just to see if maybe he would give me some sort of sign that things could potentially ease up between us. He uncomfortably shifted his eyes and forced them down to the papers fumbled in his hands. I watched him glance down at his cell phone and slide into his chair before I looked away. I felt stupid for momentarily letting my guard down and letting Ben catch my stare. I went back to work and buried my head into the paper work piled up on my desk.
Today, the Ben drama only continues when Emily points out she noticed Ben and I weren’t showing up together at the office in the morning.
I give her a quizzical stare, “So, what’s the big deal?”
Emily raises her eyebrows, “Well I happened to overhear a few of our co-workers talking about how they noticed Ben was acting strange whenever you were around.”
“Define strange.” I say, not at all impressed by this sudden inquisition.
“Well if you must know, someone said that earlier this week they saw a note from Ben asking you to call him. And then apparently he came into the office and you tried to run away from him?” Emily smiles at me, and I am not sure what to make of it. Is she curious? Or is she on to me?
“You know, people around our office really need to mind their own business. Reitman Realty is worse for gossip than a high school full of teenage girls.” I snap, and scan my papers through the photocopier; “Just because Ben and I don’t grab a coffee together in the morning, and he asks me to call him on a post-it note doesn’t mean anything weird is going on between us.”
Emily stands there, skeptically nodding and listening to me ramble on, “If you say so.”
I let out an awkward chuckle, “Actually, you will be happy to know ever since Ben and I have discontinued our usual routine, I have made great use of the Keurig Clint bought everyone last year for Christmas.”
Unfortunately, Emily doesn’t share a laugh like I had anticipated. I thought for sure she would see the humor of my saying so, because when Clint dressed as Santa Claus last year and handed out a Keurig to everyone, Emily, Ben and I quietly joked around the dessert table that buying a bunch of realtor’s one cup coffee machines, was like giving drug addicts their drug of choice for Christmas. Because one thing was sure around Reitman Realty LLC, no one needed any more coffee to feed his/her already prominent addiction.
I nervously giggle and tap my papers with a pen.
Emily narrows her eyes, “You know. I have to admit. I didn’t notice the weird behavior at first. It wasn’t until Ben strolled into the office without you this morning and asked me if I had seen you lately that I couldn’t help but question if something was up.”
I gulp and look away. For some reason I am feeling guilty about hiding everything from Emily.
“I am just trying to stay focused that’s all. Ben and I are just on different schedules right now.” I lie, but quickly add to change the subject, “So, do you have any good plans this weekend?”
Emily furrows her brow and leans down on the photocopier, “Well tonight I am going down to Weed Street to meet my girlfriends for drinks at Sangria. Would you like to come?” Before I can answer, she straightens up with a smirk, “Or do you already have plans with Ben? Don’t you two have some sort of television series marathons on Friday nights?”
“No not tonight.” I blush, and think that is exactly what I would be doing if I hadn’t agreed to that goddamn coin toss. But I refuse to dwell on Ben, and I definitely don’t want Emily to notice my discomfort.
I can really appreciate her invite though. I need to get out – for my own sanity. I haven’t heard from any of my remaining friends this week, even after I sent Jessica that pitiful email. I am still under the assumption that everyone, (excluding Jessica) isn’t intentionally trying to avoid me. Instead I secretly hope they are all busy (as I happen to be), now that we are back to our normal lives. I decide to take Emily up on her offer because I do not want to spend another night relentlessly staring at my phone and hoping desperately for someone to call, while lounging in my pajamas and playing Sudoku.
“You know what, I’d love to come. It sounds like fun.” I say, and hope I am right.
****
I arrive at Sangria determined to enjoy myself and not let my personal woes interfere with my evening. When I walk into the bar, the lights are low and the air is hot. It is packed with people scattered in every which way, as I try to push my way through the crowd and find Emily.
I wanted to feel good tonight, so I could forget all about Jessica’s rage and Ben’s rejection. I also know from hanging out with Emily and her friends before, they don’t hesitate to dress to impress with their perky fake boobs and flawless smiles. So, in order to keep up with the ladies, I put on a cute black jersey dress with lacey sleeves. I added a contrasting blue belt to cinch my waistline to let it open up to a flirty flared skirt. I even put on a pair of stilettos and spiced up my normal makeup routine by adding some eye shadow and curling my eyelashes.
I push past the swarmed bar area, filled with all different types of men in business suits and women in sophisticated dresses, making me feel like I more than appropriately dressed. This place isn’t half as disgusting as a bar Ben would pick for a Friday night. For some reason, the bars he likes are full of tattooed guys with bad body odor and young girls with tongue rings and daddy issues. This place actually has an excellent vibe and people I can relate to, a smartly dressed, professional crowd.
Emily appears in the distance and waves me over to a swanky booth in the corner, where she and her friends already ordered a round of martinis and some tapas.
“Megan you look fabulous!” Emily shouts, placing a kiss on either side of my cheek, “You remember Darla and Fiona don’t you?”
I do. I remember both of them very well. Darla is a six-foot tall Amazonian woman with long jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. She once spent her later teens and early twenties modeling all over Europe, living off the trust fund from her wealthy Moroccan father she barely knew. On the other hand, Fiona is a lawyer with curly auburn hair and a body to die for. She is a perfectly pair shaped woman with curves in all the right places. She is a yoga instructor on the side and is extremely bubbly and a pleasure to be around. Emily refers all her clients to Fiona for all their legal real estate needs. Coincidently, that is how they became such good friends. But somehow between Darla taking a yoga class Fiona taught, and Emily taking on a more active role in the single lifestyle had the three of them quickly becoming friends and hitting it off in the windy city.
“Hey Megan, long time no see.” Fiona says taking her toothpick full of olives out of her martini glass and bites down on one. She slides over in the booth, to let me sit beside her, “Love the dress. Very chic”
“Thanks” I reply then look over at Darla and say hello.
Darla doesn’t respond, and hasn’t even once looked up from rudely texting on her cell phone to acknowledge me. Finally she places her phone on the table and grabs a bacon wrapped scallop to plop in her mouth.
“Was that him?” Emily asks Darla with bright eyes.
“It was.” Darla says in a singsong voice.
“Darla just me
t someone.” Emily adds in an attempt to involve me in their conversation.
“Oh that’s nice.” I smile, “Who is he?”
“Oh that’s the best part.” Emily grins and the three of them share a laugh.
“What? Is he famous or something?” I innocently say.
“No” Darla laughs and takes a sip from her martini. She leans back in the booth with a bashful grin and tucks her hair behind her ears, “He’s my gynecologist.”
“No way” I shout, slapping my knees. How weird would that be? “How long have you been dating?”
“A couple weeks now.” Darla proudly says.
“That’s great,” I say.
“Yeah, his name is Drake, and he’s really handsome. He is such a sweetheart.” Darla pauses, and then adds with apprehension and a furrowed brow, “But he’s in his forties…”
“He doesn’t look it though,” Fiona pipes in.
“True” Emily agrees, “But we all know how you like to rob the cradle.”
Fiona and Emily share a laugh, only to have Darla pipe in, “Okay girls. That was one time and he actually wasn’t even that young. He was twenty-one, and in my defense, he told me he was twenty-three.”
“Sure, sure” Emily laughs and nudges Darla in the arm.
“Anyway” Darla dismissively says and looks over at me, “He’s going to be coming by later with some of his friends, so I hope you don’t mind a little male commodore tonight.”
“Not at all” I say, and can’t help but think this is the perfect opportunity to help me get over Ben.
“All I have to say is that his friends better be hot.” Emily chimes in and takes a sip of her martini.
The server approaches our booth and interrupts our conversation to ask me if I would like something to drink. I opt for a martini, just like the girls and order us a round of shots.
The four of us laugh and chat, snacking on tapas and sipping on martinis while we wait for Darla’s new man and his mystery friends to arrive. In the meantime, Emily is the life of the party and tells us story after story about all the bad dates she has recently been on and keeps us in stitches. Emily swears she is going to quit online dating and actually try to find a man without a creepy profile picture. Fiona interrupts and insists Emily isn’t seriously looking for a man on purpose, because she is still in love with her horrid ex-boyfriend. Emily tells Fiona to shut it and claims that isn’t true. She just hasn’t found anyone who isn’t fat, broke or weird just yet.
“Oh, they’re here” Darla says, and waves over to a foursome of men headed our way.
“Thank God.” Fiona moans, and jokingly adds, “This party is in need of some penis.”
As the group of men approaches us, I can tell Drake is leading the way. His eyes are locked on Darla as he pushes through the crowd in his charcoal grey business suit and blue pinstriped shirt. She is right, he is handsome, and hardly looks like he is in his forties. He is in great shape, and has curly dark hair and big hazel eyes. As soon as he greets her, they share a quick kiss before she begins to introduce us. Drake is polite and shakes all of our hands. Then he moves out of the way to reveal his three other friends standing behind him, and that is when I hear a familiar voice say, “Megan?”
I look up and focus my eyes to see Steven standing in front of me.
“Steven?” I say, noticing his black eye has finally disappeared.
“You two know each other?” Drake says with a smile.
“Megan is friend’s with my cousin Jessica.” Steven says and clears his throat.
“Oh so this is the mysterious Steven from Costa Rica.” Emily loudly says and beams at me.
Oh no Emily, please don’t say anything.
“Oh, so Megan told you all about me then?” Steven coldly says.
“She told me a little.” Emily smiles, “But she definitely forgot to mention how hot you were.”
“Emily!” I snap feeling myself begin to sweat.
“So then this is the infamous black-eye Megan?” Drake laughs along with the other two guys who have still yet to be introduced.
I just sit there, completely speechless. I mean, what do you say when someone refers to you as black-eye Megan? I look over at the girls, who are all intently staring at me, and I turn completely red.
“What is he talking about?” Emily finally asks.
“Oh nothing – “ I mumble until Drake cuts me off.
“Her boyfriend sucker punched Steven at that wedding and left him with a black eye.” Drake arrogantly laughs, making me immediately decide Drake is a jerk.
“Okay that’s enough!” I sputter, as my face burns.
“Whose boyfriend?” Emily asks glancing between Steven, and me “Megan doesn’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Look, it’s not a big deal.” Steven says coming to my rescue, “Its water under the bridge.”
“No, no, no” Emily says waving her hands in the air, “Megan, who is he talking about? Who is your boyfriend?”
“Emily, I don’t have a boyfriend. Believe me, it’s a long story.” I snap, taking a sip of my drink.
Emily looks suspiciously at me, and I feel the tensions quickly rising. I should have never come out tonight! Emily grabs her drink and demands I meet her at the bar pronto. I slide out of the booth and let the guys slide in. I brush against Steven’s shoulder on my way out. He looks up at me, but doesn’t smile. I look away and follow Emily.
“What the hell was that about?” Emily asks, strategically leaning against the bar to let her boobs hang out as she waves down the bartender for another drink.
“It was Ben,” I blurt out.
Emily’s mouth practically drops to the floor. She shoves me and shouts “Shut up!” making me stumble backwards and slam into a man sitting behind me on a barstool.
“I’m serious.” I say, and see Emily’s eyes light up, “We weren’t dating, but we were you know…”
“I knew something was going on! Why did you lie to me this afternoon?” Emily shouts.
“Honestly Emily, it’s really complicated, but whatever it was it’s over now.” I sigh, feeling myself become emotional all over again.
“You better tell me everything! Not tonight of course, this isn’t the proper forum to rehash all the juicy details. This calls for a night of sweats and a good bottle of wine.”
“Deal” I say.
She squeezes my hand and then unnecessarily adds, “So how was he? As big as I normally like to fantasize?”
“Emily!” I shout and roll my eyes, only to feel my phone vibrating in my clutch.
“What?” Emily says, “You can’t leave me hanging. Those are important details girlfriends must share.”
I look at my cell phone, and see it is Michelle calling, “One second Emily, I have to take this.”
“Is it Ben?” Emily giggles.
“No” I roll my eyes, “I’ll be right back.”
I push my way outside into the cool night air, so I can answer my phone without any background noise to muffle out Michelle’s voice.
“Megan, it’s me.” She breathes into the phone, “Where are you right now?”
“I’m out with Emily. Why?” I say feeling a tad panicked.
“You need to get down to The Berghoff right now.” Michelle says in a hushed whisper.
“I can’t. I’m out right now. Besides, isn’t that restaurant close to my condo?” I ask with curiosity, “It would take me at least thirty minutes to get there in good traffic.”
“No seriously Megan. You need to ditch Emily and get down here right now, if you don’t want to lose Ben forever.”
My heart pounds like crazy in my chest. I am scared to know what Michelle is hinting at. I stand still on the pavement, completely frozen from fear. I do not want to hear any more words about to come out of her mouth.
“Megan? Are you still there?” she asks.
“What’s going on?” I ask with a tremble in my voice.
“Look, I don’t know Megan, but I met some girls
from work here for dinner, and as we were leaving, I saw Ben in the restaurant having dinner with another woman.”
“What?” I shout into the phone completely gob-smacked. I start to feel the tears well up in my eyes, but I knew it was only a matter of time.
“Megan, you need to get down here right now and –“
“No” I shout into the phone, “Michelle, please! How pathetic do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all” She says, “I just can’t handle this happening between you two.”
“Forget it Michelle.” I wave my hand in the air, “It is Ben. I didn’t expect any less.”
“Do you want me to go in there and say something?” Michelle asks.
“No” I breathe helplessly into the phone.
“Look, I’m sorry I called, but you deserved to know.”
“Thanks Michelle.” I mumble and before we say our goodbyes, she says she will call me tomorrow. I vaguely remember her making me promise we are getting together for my birthday next weekend, or her telling me she found a pair of my sandals in her luggage, and that she’ll bring them by my condo sometime next week. I finally hang up and throw my head back. I look high into the starry night sky and let out a huge sigh. This was supposed to be a good night! First Steven! Now this? Suddenly this night couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Are you coming back in or what?” Emily says, poking her head out the doors of Sangria, “I ordered another martini for you. Hurry up.”
“Thanks Emily, but I think I am just going to go home.” I sigh and wave down a cab to call it a night.
Chapter 25
The morning of my birthday, I wake up in a state of panic. How did this happen? How did I suddenly reach the quarter century club? I can’t believe how another week has flown by and all I have done is work, work, work, work, work spreading myself thin from open house to open house and client to client, to distract me from my pathetic life.