by M. E. Parker
I’d never disappointed my father before, but I knew I had to say something, I had to tell him that I wasn’t ready for the life he had planned for me. I went to him and told him that I wasn’t ready. I told him that I needed time. But I never had the guts to tell him the truth.
The truth was, I would never be ready to marry R.J. and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work for my father’s business. He wasn’t happy when I asked for time, but he reluctantly agreed. He gave me one year, until my twenty-fifth birthday, to do whatever I wanted. At the time, one year seemed like a lifetime. I wanted an adventure, so I called the one and only expert on adventures that I knew, my childhood friend from boarding school, Amber.
Amber was the girl that snuck out to meet boys. The girl that snuck cigarettes and alcohol into the dorms. The one that managed to steal the headmaster’s car to drive to the next town to go out dancing without getting caught. She was everything I wasn’t. She was the one person I was secretly jealous of, but I was always too scared to take part in her adventures.
When I called her and asked if she wanted to spend a year with me in New York City, she jumped at the chance. My father was disappointed that I wouldn’t be doing something more brag-worthy, like traveling Europe or teaching English to underprivileged children in some third world country—anything more than partying up with a girlfriend in the city. But I stood my ground and he reluctantly agreed.
Amber and I rented a loft in Manhattan and within weeks, thanks to Amber, were accepted into the most elite of circles in the New York club scene. Our days consisted of trips to the spa and shopping at the most exclusive stores in the city. Our nights were spent dining at restaurants with waitlists that were months long and partying at nightclubs that were invitation only.
I met plenty of hot guys, but I never went home with any of them. I couldn’t, after waiting so long, just hand over my virginity to some guy I met at a nightclub. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the ‘party scene’ wasn’t the life for me. I was spending ridiculous amounts of money. Amber’s parents weren’t funding our little expedition, so it was all on me. Dad paid the bills and never said a word.
In the beginning, it was exciting and new. I met all sorts of people. But it didn’t take me long to figure out they weren’t real. Money talks in Manhattan. Most of our new friends were trust fund babies. They were all about sticking it to their parents and living without consequences or responsibility. That wasn’t who I wanted to be. About six months in, I stopped with the club thing and left Amber to have her fun. I started spending my days at museums and my nights were spent in alone in my apartment trying to figure out what I wanted my life to be like. I still didn’t have a clue. It wasn’t until Amber introduced me to Jonathan that I started thinking I was moving in the right direction.
She dragged me to a gallery showing against my will on a Saturday night a couple of months ago. When she introduced me to the artist, Jonathan, I was immediately drawn to him. I bought one of his paintings that night and we had been seeing each other since ever since. He seemed real to me. He was poor. He was the epitome of a ‘starving artist.’ I was touched by his story of growing up, being raised by a single mother who struggled to keep food on the table.
It made me happy to take him to fancy restaurants, buy him nice clothes, and give him things that he never had growing up. Last week, when I took him out to dinner, he had complained that he had been turned down by another gallery to show his work. He painted landscapes. I remembered his words from that night as we continued to drive down the deserted country highway, ‘I just feel like I need to see the countryside, you know, breathe the air. I need to touch the grass and the trees. I can’t just paint from photographs. I need the real thing, Claire.’
I surprised him with this trip along with the stupid Rolex at a picnic in Central Park three days ago to celebrate his birthday. I wanted to make him happy. He had been so patient with me. I told him after a few dates that I was still a virgin. He never pressured me. He seemed happy to just spend time with me. I was hoping that this trip would be it. I wanted to give myself to him
Jonathan had told me I was special, that he had never felt like that before. Even though I was still struggling over the depth of my feelings for him, I admired him deeply and I didn’t know what would happen since my year was up, but I knew that I sure as hell wasn’t going to give my virginity to the likes of R.J. Maclanahan.
My phone rang again jolting me out of my thoughts, it was my father. Again. My twenty-fifth birthday was last week. My year was up. I knew I had to talk to him. I just wanted this one last fling. One more week to figure things out. One more adventure to remember. I ignored his call again and heard Jonathan slam his hand against the steering wheel, “Dammit Claire, why don’t you just turn off the ringer if you’re not going to answer your phone? I’m tired of hearing it ring every thirty minutes.” I glared over at him and then tried to pull up a map on my Blackberry again. It still wasn’t working, and I suddenly felt like I needed to get out of the car as soon as possible. I felt like walls were closing in on me.
I grabbed his Blackberry and punched in a quick search for the nearest hotels. The closest one that popped up was forty-seven miles away. “Jesus, Jonathan, where are we? The nearest hotel is almost fifty miles out.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. “Just keep going, while I figure out where we are,” I said, as I looked back down at his phone and saw an email notification pop up. It was Amber. Why the hell was Amber emailing him? The subject line said, ‘Thinking of You.’ What the hell? My hand shook as I opened the email. I felt like I wanted to throw up when I read it.
Hey you, I was just watching this little video and was thinking of you, so much so, that I had to get myself off. I’m going to have to buy new batteries for my vibe if you don’t get your sexy ass home soon. How are things in Podunk, Tennessee? You dumbass! If you wanted a free trip, you should have at least told her that you always dreamed of painting the Eiffel Tower. Only you would wind up in the backwoods of Tennessee. Send me a dirty picture, I need a fix. –A
I couldn’t believe what I had read. I made sure the volume was off on the phone and then pressed play on the video. Sure enough, it was Amber stark naked, fucking Jonathan, who was also stark naked in MY bed in MY apartment. What the fuck? My hands shook uncontrollably. I felt bile rising in my throat. I looked up when the car came to a stop. We were at a stop light, we had finally reached a town. I quickly glanced around for a place for us to stop and I saw a lighted sign a block ahead for Suzie’s Diner.
No wonder he didn’t care if I fucked him or not, he was fucking Amber. How could I have possibly been so stupid? Of course, I was nothing more than a paycheck for him, just like I was for Amber. It was all about the money. They were both using me. What made me sicker, was to think that I’d done the same thing to my father for the last year. I was no better than them. Jesus, he was never going to forgive me. Because I knew I sure as hell was never going to forgive either of them.
As soon as we got closer to the diner, I heard myself whisper, “Pull over.”
Jonathan looked at me, “What?”
I glared at over at him, “Pull the fuck over Jonathan.”
He looked back at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. “What the hell Claire? Pull over where?”
“At the fucking diner, Jonathan. Pull over now!” I screamed.
He didn’t say anything as he pulled into the diner’s parking lot. My grip remained strong on his phone as I threw my own phone in my purse, grabbing it and slinging it over my shoulder as I got out of the car. I ran around to his side of the car and pounded on the glass. He rolled down the window. “Claire, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Pop the trunk,” I said, trying as hard as I could to remain in control. He didn’t respond immediately, so I reached through the window and pressed the button to open the truck and stormed to the back of the car.
Jonathan hadn’t gotten out of the car yet, but I could hear him, “Claire
, come here, what are you doing? What’s going on?”
I struggled to get my suitcase out of the trunk, but I finally managed as it dropped with a thud on the asphalt. I heard Jonathan getting out of the car and I looked down at my hand still gripping his phone. I ripped the case off it and threw it down as hard as could on the concrete. He was running at this point, “Claire, Jesus, why are you acting crazy? Was that my phone? What the hell are you doing?” I looked down at it on the ground and flipped it over with my toe. It was smashed but I stomped on it a few more times for good measure.
Jonathan came over and grabbed me by the arms, “Claire, calm down, what the hell?”
“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Jonathan, ever again!” I screamed as I pushed him off me. I picked up my suitcase stormed off towards the diner.
“Jesus Claire, just tell me what’s going on. Please.”
I turned back towards him. “Jonathan, ask Amber what’s going on. I’m sure the two of you can figure it out. I read her email. You need to go now, Jonathan. Get out of here. I never want to see you again. Go!” I screamed before I opened the door to walk into the diner. As soon as I walked in, I saw that the place was empty except for the woman behind the counter and a guy who was sitting at the counter in front of her. I tried to calm down and regulate my breathing. I could only imagine the scene that they had just witnessed. Before I could apologize, Jonathan came storming into the diner and grabbed my arm.
I noticed the guy sitting at the counter standing up, with his hands curled into fists by his side. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I don’t think I could have taken my eyes off him, he was alarmingly hot—I mean so hot, he should be on the cover a magazine hot. I shifted my gaze back towards Jonathan. “I’m not going to tell you again. Do. Not. Touch. Me.” He dropped his grip on my arm as he looked towards the man behind me.
“Listen, Claire, I don’t know what kind of email you saw from Amber. But don’t believe any of it. She’s crazy. She’s been trying to get me to hook up with her for months, but I haven’t, I wouldn’t. You’re the only one I care about. Now come on, please. Come back to the car, so we can talk about this.”
I looked into his lying eyes. “She sent a video you moron. A video of you fucking her—Amber, my best friend, in MY bed in MY apartment. So, don’t try to lie to me. I am going to ask you one more time to leave. Now.”
“Claire, Jesus, it was just sex. You are the one I want. Please don’t do this. Can we at least talk about this?”
“We are done talking Jonathan! In fact, we’re never talking again. Go!”
“Claire, you know I don’t have any cash right now. How do you expect me to get home?”
“God, you are pathetic Jonathan, could you at least try to pretend it wasn’t about the money? You have a car full of gas, you have a plane ticket. Drive to Nashville, get on a plane and fly the fuck home. I’m done with you. Oh, and by the way, give me back the watch.”
“What? Claire, I thought this was a gift? Come on. I’m not leaving you here. Let’s go. We can talk about it in the car.”
“Jonathan, you know it’s the right thing, give me the watch.”
He stepped towards me and grabbed my arm again. As I tried to jerk it away, I saw out of the corner of my eye the guy behind me take a few steps forward. I watched him as he came face to face with Jonathan. He was a few inches taller than him, but what was most striking was his build. Pure muscle. He made Jonathan look like some skinny middle school kid.
I watched him glaring at Jonathan when he opened his mouth, “I distinctly remember this lady asking you not to touch her, so I am going to ask you let go of her arm now.” Jonathan released my arm and looked at the guy.
His voice was shaky when he responded. “We aren’t looking for any trouble here, it’s just a stupid argument. I would appreciate it if you would stay out of it.”
The guy smirked at him, “I fully intended to stay out of it until you touched her after she specifically asked you not to. Since you can’t seem to hear what she said, maybe you’ll listen to me.” The guy turned to me, “Is that your car out there?”
I swallowed, “No. It’s a rental.”
He smiled, “Did you rent it, or did he?”
“I did.” I don’t know why speaking to him made me so nervous. All I knew was that I could get used to looking into those eyes.
“Are you sure you want him to take off with your car? There’s not much around here.”
“I’m sure. I need him as far away from me as possible.”
He glared back to Jonathan. “You need to go man. Right now. You heard her. And give her the watch like she asked.”
I looked at Jonathan and he looked like he was about to throw a temper tantrum. “Claire? Really?” he whined. I held out my hand for him to give me the watch and as he was ripping it off his wrist, he muttered “Crazy bitch,” under his breath.
The guy piped up again as I grabbed the watch from Jonathan and threw it into my purse. “I would advise you to stop talking. If you say one more word, you and I are going to have a problem, friend.” Jonathan looked at me and shook his head and turned around and walked out of the diner.
Chapter Three—Jack
I watched her roll her Louis Vuitton suitcase further into the diner after Jonathan stormed out the door. I meant it when I told him I had no intention of getting involved until I saw him lay his hands on her again. She was staring straight into my eyes and I immediately shifted my gaze to the floor. Her cheeks were flushed. I could tell that she was embarrassed that she had made a scene. I walked back over to my place at the counter and she came and sat down next to me, leaving an empty stool between us. “Thank you for that.” Her voice was shaky and less self-assured than when she had been talking to the asshole.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as picked up the newspaper and pretended to read again. I was trying to get myself together. My mind was replaying the scene that had flashed in front of me for the last five minutes. I watched the shiny black BMW pull into the parking lot. I knew immediately that it didn’t belong here and worried at first that it was another fucking lawyer sent by one of the big companies to buy my land, but then I saw her step out of the car on a rampage. I watched her run around the car and bang on the driver’s side window.
I could tell she was beautiful even from far away. The way her long, shiny blonde hair was flying every which way as she raced around the car gave me the first clue. Then I caught a glimpse of the curve of her perfect ass in those tight little leggings when she bent over into the driver’s side of the car.
Everything about her screamed spoiled rich girl. Her long brown leather riding boots, Gucci--$2000 bucks, the Louis Vuitton suitcase that she dragged out of the trunk and tossed down on the asphalt--$3000 bucks. The Prada purse she violently slung over her shoulder---$2500 bucks. No doubt the chick was high maintenance as hell. I could spot her type a mile away.
If the guys at the farm knew I could tell what brand a woman’s purse was, they would swear I was swinging for the other team, but the truth was, I had spent nearly ten years with it all that shit crammed down my throat from Tiffany. In fact, I bought her a pair of boots almost exactly like that for Christmas two years ago, right before she ripped my heart out.
As I watched the girl smash a perfectly good Blackberry phone into pieces on the concrete, I started to feel sorry for whoever was in the driver’s seat. I was thinking that she was probably just some spoiled brat who was throwing a temper tantrum because her boyfriend wouldn’t buy her what she wanted. I shook my head and turned away from the window trying to ignore the drama unfolding out in the parking lot.
But when I heard the bell ring on the diner door, I couldn’t help but look up. She was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. Her hair was the most delectable shade of honey and it fell straight down her back with part of it falling over her shoulder covering her right breast. The cream-colored lace blouse that she wore clung to her as I watched her firm, rounded breasts rise and fal
l as she tried to catch her breath. My gaze drifted towards her face and my eyes locked with hers—big and round and deep blue-green, the color of the ocean. Even filled with rage, they were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. Her cheeks were flushed and her plump, pale pink bee-stung lips made me want to kiss her like I’d never wanted to kiss anyone in my life.
She. Was. Perfect. I had to stop staring at her. Staring at her was like staring straight into the sun, if you did it long enough, it was all you’d ever see. I averted my gaze until I heard the bell ring on the door again. I really did try to stay out of it. But when I figured out that the douchebag had fucked her best friend, I knew that I would have to step in. Now she was sitting next to me and all I wanted to do was touch her and I had sent her boyfriend packing knowing that her only way out of this town tonight would be me. What the hell was I thinking?
Suzie interrupted my thoughts with a plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and a side of green beans. I never thought there would be a day when I didn’t want to immediately dig into Suzie’s fried chicken, but I’d suddenly lost my appetite. I picked up my fork and moved the green beans around on my plate as Suzie made her way over to talk to the newest problem that had just walked into my life.
“You doin’ okay sweetie?”
I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she pasted a smile on her face. “Yeah. I’m sorry about all the drama.” Claire said, with the sweetest voice I had ever heard.
Suzie smiled at her, “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ve all been there one time or the other, right? My name’s Suzie. We don’t get very many visitors in this little town of ours, so we’re glad you’re here.”
She let out a little laugh, just loud enough for me know I wanted to hear it again. “I’m Claire and thank you. I’m glad to be just about anywhere right now other than stuck in a car with him.”