Cocky Bastard

by Penelope Ward

  “Well, you wouldn’t know, would you? Because you haven’t talked to her.” She took her rag and whipped it over my head jokingly.

  “This has to be handled carefully. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  “There’s handling it carefully, and there’s avoidance. How long are you really gonna camp out like this? You need to just rip the Band Aid off, man.”

  Taking one last gulp down and slamming the glass on the table, I said, “I hate when you’re right, Carla Babes.”

  “You must hate me all the time then.” She winked.

  Aubrey looked so incredibly beautiful walking into work the next morning. It was windy, which made her hair especially unruly. As usual, she stopped into Starbucks to grab her coffee before heading into the building.

  The ache in my chest was bigger than ever because I knew D-day was nearing. Even though I’d made a vow to “rip the Band Aid off” in the next couple of days, I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to approach her.

  When she was finally safely inside, I let out a deep breath and exited my truck to head into Starbucks and get my own coffee. Hung over again this morning, I’d slept through my alarm, arriving too late to risk going in earlier and paying for her drink.

  I decided to try something new today. I wanted to taste Aubrey. Well, I wished. Instead, I decided to order that frou frou drink she always ordered to see what it tasted like.

  “I’ll have a large nonfat, three-pump vanilla latte, low foam and extra hot.”

  The young cashier’s face always seemed to light up when she saw me. “You’re ordering her drink today…for yourself?”

  “Changing things up, yeah.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Why do you need my name?”

  “It’s just procedure with specialty drinks. We write it on the side.”

  “Oh…Chance.”

  She wrote my name in black marker on the cup, and I walked over to the other counter where you’re supposed to pick up your order.

  I watched the barista make a couple of the drinks in line before mine. What a friggin’ process between the steaming and the frothing. It better have been complicated for five-bucks a pop.

  I heard the cashier’s voice. “Aubrey. What are you doing back so soon?”

  My eyes quickly darted toward her then I immediately pulled my baseball cap down and turned around toward the back wall. Heart pounding. Chest constricted. Stomach nauseous. A rush of adrenaline.

  Oh Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  My heart had never beat so fast. I heard her voice behind me. “My boyfriend came into my office to talk to me and knocked my drink down with his elbow. It spilled all over my desk.”

  Fucking clutz.

  “I’m sorry. Let me get you another one free of charge.”

  “Thank you so much, Melanie. I appreciate that.”

  It felt like the walls were closing in on me. The sound of the steaming milk suddenly seemed deafening. I wondered if I could get away with sliding away slowly with my back facing the wall until I was behind her and out the door. Just as I’d started to move, the kid making my drink shouted, “Chance!”

  “Did you just say Chance?” Aubrey said.

  At this point, I was just behind her.

  Melanie, who probably figured Aubrey was just my innocent crush, decided that moment would be a good time to play matchmaker. She outed me. “Chance is the guy who paid for your drink the other day. He’s right there.”

  Aubrey flipped around so fast that she accidentally backed into a display of plastic iced-coffee cups, knocking them down like dominos onto the ground.

  Seeming unphased by the disaster she’d just created, she stood staring at me with her hand over her chest as if it were holding her heart in.

  I took my baseball cap off and crossed it over my chest. With pleading eyes, I whispered, “Princess.”

  Looking like she’d just seen a ghost, she slowly shook her head as if to say ‘this can’t be happening.’

  I took one step toward her.

  She held her hand out, stopping me in my tracks. “No! Don’t you dare come near me.”

  My heart fell to my stomach, and it felt like my guts were twisting.

  This was not how I pictured things going down.

  I lifted both of my palms. “I won’t. But please, just hear me out.”

  “You’ve been stalking me?”

  “Not exactly.”

  We were both silent. Filled with humiliation, I bent down and started picking up the cups she’d knocked over. Aubrey stayed frozen in the same spot.

  Nosy Melanie spoke from behind the counter, “Why won’t you just listen to what he has to say?”

  Aubrey’s chest was still rising and falling. She finally spoke, “Let me ask you this, Melanie. If a guy led you to believe that he cared about you, then fucked you and left before the next morning without so much as a sticky note goodbye, would you hear him out?”

  “Probably not.” She laughed then added, “Well, if he had an ass like Chance, maybe.” One of the other female employees giggled.

  Aubrey looked at me with daggers in her eyes and continued, “Okay…what if he never contacted you for two whole years after that, then all of a sudden showed up stalking you in your hometown. Would you hear him out?”

  “Definitely not,” Melanie said. “That’s just weird.”

  “I rest my case.”

  Aubrey suddenly zipped past me and out the door. She was gone.

  Feeling like she’d just ripped my heart out and fed it to me, I stood defeated in the middle of Starbucks.

  After a minute of staring blankly outside the store window, I heard a voice inside my head that sounded awfully like Mum. “Grow some fucking balls and fight for her.”

  And that marked the end of my subtlety streak.

  I flew out the door and ran down the street, hoping I could track her down before she went inside her building.

  There was no sign of Aubrey anywhere. Flying through the revolving doors, I spotted her as she was waiting to get into an elevator. Just as she disappeared into one, I stuck my hand in the doors to open them.

  She was alone.

  Tears were pouring down her face. She’d been crying.

  As the elevator rose up, I hit the stop button.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” she screamed.

  Panting, I said, “If this is the only way I can get you to listen to me, then so be it.”

  “You can keep me trapped in here for—oh, I don’t know—TWO years for all I care. I’m not talking to you. Maybe then, you’ll know what it feels like.”

  Locking her against the wall with one arm on each side of her trembling body, I said, “I’m glad to see you’re stubborn as ever, Princess.”

  Seeming uncomfortable with my close proximity, she swallowed before saying, “I need to get back to the office. Move this elevator, or I’m calling the police.”

  “I get that you’re in shock. You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

  “Is there a good way to find out that the person who tore your heart to shreds is now stalking you?”

  She had a point.

  “Probably not. But you have to let me explain.”

  The words that came out of her mouth next were hard for me to hear. “Do you realize how long it took me to get over you? My life is only just now getting back to normal. You can’t come back after two years and expect me to just let you in after I’ve fought so hard to let go of you. I’d finally let you go. Please. I’m begging you to leave.”

  My chest was so tight it felt like it might burst.

  She’d let me go.

  Well, too fucking bad. I’m back.

  “I’ll go…for now. But I’m not leaving town until you agree to let me explain what happened. If you still want me to go after you’ve heard it all, then I swear to God, Aubrey, you will never see me again for as long as you live.”

 
; Her eyes started to water again as she looked into mine. Without taking my eyes off her, I let go of the stop button and pressed the number for the next floor.

  “I’m staying at the Sunrise Motel, room eight. I still have the same cell number as before. You call me when you’re ready to listen.”

  When the doors slid open, I got out, leaving Aubrey in the elevator with the ball in her court. I just hoped she didn’t choose to deflate it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Was it even considered stalking anymore once the victim became clearly aware of the stalker’s presence? Now that Aubrey knew I was in town, it was a totally different experience with the risk of getting caught removed from the equation.

  Over the next week, I was basically just camping out in Temecula hoping for a miracle. The only real stress was the wait for her to contact me. I’d check my phone constantly, thinking that maybe I’d missed her. But she never called.

  Not wanting to piss her off more than I already had, I made a decision to take a break from showing up outside her office for a few days. Instead, I worked out hard at the gym all morning, taking my frustrations out on my body. I hadn’t touched a woman in over two years, and the only one I wanted was apparently taken and hated my guts. So, pumping iron was my way of coping with it until I could get her back. I only dreamt of all the ways I could take everything out on Aubrey instead.

  After the gym, in the early afternoons, I’d head to her house and continue the landscaping there. Someone had to take care of it, for Christ’s sake. I laid down mulch, planted and put in two princess flower bushes. Who knew there was such a thing as a princess flower? They were the perfect choice.

  The neighbors were used to seeing me working. With my pickup truck and mower in the back, they just figured landscaping was my job. My skin was now a shade darker after working for days in the sweltering heat. More and more mothers with strollers were walking by lately, too. I’d wave to them with dirt on my hands. These new female spectators seemed to be multiplying by the day.

  The best part, though, about spending the afternoons at Aubrey’s was my time with the goat. Always waiting at the window, he’d come to expect me.

  Pixy.

  I still had to get used to calling him that.

  I’d bring him lunch. We’d eat together. I was becoming unhealthily attached to the smell of his breath mixed with freshly-cut grass.

  Stinking Bugger.

  My nighttime schedule was the same as always. I’d head to the bar and unleash all of my troubles onto Carla Babes.

  One Friday night, however, there was a surprise change in my routine. I was sitting on my stool at the bar when Carla asked, “What did you say Aubrey looked like?”

  “Why?”

  “Just describe her to me.”

  “Petite but curvy, wavy auburn hair, wide eyes, creamy skin…”

  “Does she have a leopard print coat by any chance?”

  I scratched my chin and remembered she was wearing one into the office one morning. “Yeah…yeah, she does. Why?”

  “I think she was just here. Some chick fitting that description was looking over at us through the front window. I just made eye contact with her, and she took off.”

  I turned around. “What?”

  Carla waved her hand towards the door. “Go after her.”

  Without thinking, I hopped off my stool and ran outside. Sure enough, Aubrey’s Audi was exiting the parking lot. My heart was racing as she sped down the road. Since I’d walked to the bar, I couldn’t even follow her. My little lead foot Princess jetted away too fast for me to stop her.

  I took out my phone and scrolled down to her number to send a text.

  Chance: Who’s stalking who now?

  There was no response. After a few minutes, a return text came in. My heartbeat accelerated.

  Aubrey: It was a coincidence.

  Chance: Don’t text while driving.

  Aubrey: Why did you text me then? And don’t tell me what to do.

  Chance: Pull over, Princess.

  Aubrey: I wasn’t stalking you.

  Chance: Don’t text me again until you’ve pulled over.

  Staring down at my screen, I just stood there in the parking lot. After several minutes, the phone vibrated again.

  Aubrey: Is that what you do every night? Troll bars around town for women?

  Chance: Are you parked?

  Aubrey: Yes.

  Chance: I’ve only been trolling around town for one woman. Said woman drives me to drink. Thus, the bar.

  Aubrey: I wish you’d just go home. Stop texting me.

  Chance: Stop texting? I figured you’d like the vibration.

  No response.

  That might have taken it too far. It was too soon to joke with her like we used to. I sent another text, giving her the honest response to her request that I go home.

  Chance: My home is where you are.

  Aubrey: You burned down our home in Vegas after you fucked me and left.

  It fucking hurt so badly to see those words. I stared at them for almost a full minute before responding.

  Chance: There was a reason I did what I did and I need to explain it to you in person. I won’t do it over text.

  Aubrey: There is no excuse for what you did.

  Chance: Where are you? I’m coming to you.

  Aubrey: No. Please don’t.

  Chance: You have to see me eventually if you ever want to get rid of me.

  Aubrey: Why are you doing this?

  Because I love you.

  Fuck.

  Where did that come from?

  Chance: Please come back to the bar or I can walk to you where you are. I can’t drive because I’ve been drinking.

  Aubrey: I can’t see you tonight. I’m not ready.

  Chance: Will you ever be?

  Aubrey: I don’t think so.

  Chance: Who is he?

  Aubrey: Who?

  Chance: Your boyfriend.

  Aubrey: You mean, you don’t already know? What kind of a stalker are you?

  Chance: Tell me his name.

  Aubrey: His name is Richard.

  Chance: Is he living with you?

  Aubrey: That’s none of your business.

  Chance: I saw his jacket hanging on your closet door.

  Aubrey: You’ve been staring into my bedroom?

  Chance: Yes. Only when you’re not home. And I never entered your house. I wouldn’t.

  Aubrey: It’s still sick.

  Chance: I can’t believe you kept him, by the way.

  Aubrey: I don’t abandon the things I claim to care about.

  Chance: Neither do I. It’s why I’m here.

  Aubrey: After two years?

  Chance: I came here the first chance I got.

  Even though it was true, I’m sure that confused her. She didn’t respond. So, I texted her again.

  Chance: You named him Pixy. That’s proof that you don’t hate me.

  Aubrey: I can’t do this anymore.

  I didn’t want to upset her any further. So, I stopped the communication.

  It surprised me when my phone vibrated again back inside the bar about fifteen minutes later.

  Aubrey: When have you been doing the gardening?

  Chance: All day while you’re at work.

  Aubrey: Thank you.

  If it were possible for a heart to smile, I swore mine must have done it in that moment.

  Chance: You’re welcome.

  Aubrey: Please don’t feed him corn anymore. He doesn’t digest it and it’s not pretty.

  I chuckled.

  Chance: Whoops.

  That was the end of our conversation that night. It was more than I could have ever hoped for.

  Aubrey was still avoiding seeing me at all costs. When another week went by, I knew my approach needed to be more aggressive. With each day that passed, it bothered me more and more that she didn’t know the reason behind my leaving. And I still refused to have that conversation any o
ther way but in person.

  I understood that she was scared, but it was becoming urgently necessary to find a way to get her alone so that we could talk.

  One Thursday afternoon, I got a call from my agent back in Australia about a new potential marketing opportunity. So, I did what anyone in my position would do before entering into a new business deal: I got lawyered up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I have an appointment at eleven with Ms. Bloom.”

  The receptionist smiled and looked down at the appointment book. “Mr. Bastardo?”

  “The one and only.” I was grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. The woman probably thought my excitement was for her. She was a pretty girl; I bet plenty of men lit up around her. But my enthusiasm revolved around only one woman. Even hearing her voice through the intercom made my heart speed up a bit.

  “Yes, Kelly?” Aubrey said.

  “Your eleven o’clock consult is here.”

  “Thank you. Would you show him back in five minutes? I need to get organized.” I pictured her desk scattered with papers.

  Kelly let go of a button and spoke to me. “You can have a seat. I’m actually going to give her ten minutes. She’s one of the best attorneys here at the firm, but her desk is usually a disaster.”

  I sat in the reception area and thumbed through a magazine as I waited, but I couldn’t concentrate. I’d been waiting almost a week for this appointment. Yesterday I went and picked up my new suit. It was custom tailored and fit well. When I looked in the mirror, it might have been the first time in two years I didn’t hate who stared back at me.

  I straightened my tie and hoped the sales lady who helped me pick it out was right. She’d said the blues of the tie brought out the color in my eyes—it would be impossible not to hold a woman captive. Oddly, her choice of words fit what I wanted to do to Aubrey…hold her captive. Quite possibly for the rest of our lives. I may have only spent eight days with this woman, but we learned what takes most people six months of dating. Coming to Temecula confirmed what I spent the last two years thinking about—I was a goner when it came to Aubrey Bloom.

  Kelly walked around her desk. “Mr. Bastardo? If you’re ready, I’ll take you back now.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m very ready.”