by K. M. Liss
I have to think about it, like everything I do.
Chapter Three
Day two at work, is a lot less stressful than day one. It's awful being new and feeling like a fish out of water. But at least I know what I'm doing now, and the work has no major unknowns for me. Nothing unknown, but for whom walks through that door. We see no sign of Sean, but Jase appears in his stead at ten thirty for three drinks to take out. Two cappuccino's and one mocha. I don't serve him myself as I'm on the customer side, doing cleaning duties.
Jase's eyes are constantly on me and he stops to chat and tells me my hair is lovely as he leaves. He gives me a very hot look, one which speaks volumes.
The day passes by and we still see no sign of Sean, but Jase appears twice in the afternoon and he's full of flirtatious looks and compliments, as he chats me up.
It's late in the afternoon. Jase wanders over to the tables by the window, where I'm starting to do some more spills cleaning.
“Doesn't Charlie take a turn with the clean up?”
“She's the self appointed supervisor, I'm the junior staff,” I say, briefly looking up at him while I rub at a chocolate smear with my damp cloth.
“She's a slave driver you mean,” he says with a chuckle.
I smile wryly at him. It's true, she does like to order me around a little too much.
“So what do you do, Jase?” I ask, as I spray the next table and start cleaning it energetically.
“Modeling menswear, mens grooming and other guy stuff.”
“So you're working together?”
“Oh no, this is purely social. And we never work together. We have different clients.”
“Visit Sean often, do you?”
“This is my first visit to New York since he moved here. We've been too busy to hang out.”
He puts his hand on my arm, to draw my full attention and to stop me cleaning for a moment. I look at him, taking stock properly, for the first time. His short, dark, curly hair glistens beneath the electric lights with a tawny hue. His eyes are deep brown and his eyelashes are thick and luscious. His even features, olive skin tone and full lips combine with his broad shoulders, to give a very sensual Latino appearance. But despite his obvious appeal, I can't help but prefer Sean. He has a mean and moody look about him. A bad boy look. Sulky and a little mysterious. Andy had that kind of look too. God knows why I like that type of look, it's obviously not healthy, but I do.
I seem to be thinking far too much about Sean. And fantasizing about him. Last night I was physically fantasizing.
I studiously ignore my inner preference and put some effort into the hot guy before me.
As I smile broadly at Jase, his whole face lights up. I'm kinda warming to him.
“Looking forward to Saturday?” I ask.
“Yeah. And Lissa, are you gonna be with someone?”
“I'm trying to choose between Robert Pattinson and Zac Efron for my date. Apparently, they're both desperate to come with me.”
He laughs as I move off, to clean the next table.
“I'd love come with you, just say the word.” He flares his eyes, suggestively.
“Walked right into that one, didn't I?” I giggle at his smuttiness.
“Yeah, stark naked,” he teases.
He cocks his head and smiles at me.
I admit that he's cute and nice. That's all though.
“I suppose I'd better get back.”
“Yeah, see 'ya. Don't be a stranger,” I call out, as he leaves.
As if... he'll be back tomorrow a few dozen times, at least.
I stand by the window and stare outside, above the rooftops across the street. The sky is dark. A storm is due. There's a rising pressure and tension in the air. I watch the boiling black clouds in a trance as the rain starts to fall in large splattering drops. The heavy rain reminds me of that evening not so long ago, when I found out the truth. How Andy really felt about me underneath that lying facade. I hadn't intended to go out that night, but I'd sat indoors for three evenings while he was at a conference in Boston. Charlotte was away, visiting her mom, and although Joanne was around, on and off, I was dying for some company of my own age. I thought I'd drop in to a bar nearby, one which Andy and some of his friends used a lot. It was a ten minute walk and something to do. I didn't intend to stay long, just have a quick drink and some much needed social atmosphere.
Despite the dreadful weather, the bar was quite busy. I dodged in and out of the people to the far end, where there was space to stand at the bar. I didn't notice him until I was almost at his side.
There, lounging on a bar stool, was Andy. And between his legs, draped around him, and kissing his ear in a very enthusiastic manner, was another woman. She was someone I knew and had spoken to a few times, Simone. His hands were cupping her ass and he was enjoying her attentions a great deal, based on the expression on his face. He looked up, and his shock at seeing me standing there, was obvious. As was mine at seeing him, even moreso over who he was with. He moved off the stool and out of her arms like she'd burnt him, coming to my side.
“I thought you were in Boston until the day after tomorrow,” I'd said, my voice choked, and my mind full of hurt and confusion. Simone had turned to face me, leaning against the bar in her tight red dress, wearing an evil, smirking smile. Like the cat who had stolen all my cream.
The bitch.
She'd known full well, that Andy and I were together.
“Came home early and dropped in for a quick drink on the way to see you. I was a bit stressed, you know I don't like flying.”
“Well it looks like you're de-stressing pretty damn well,” I'd said accusingly, “and you didn't think to tell me you were coming home two days early?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise... and by the way, don't worry about her... Simone... she's a little drunk... came on to me...”
“D'you think I'm stupid? You haven't been to a conference, have you? Where's your luggage?” I look at where he was sitting, to the luggage-free empty space, pointedly. “You've been here, in New York all the time, with her. You're a cheat, and a liar.”
He looked at me in shame. He really couldn't deny it. He'd been caught red handed.
The bare-faced lying bastard.
I wondered if he'd done this before. I could think of at least three trips he'd supposedly been on since we'd been dating, and all that so called 'overtime'.
I'd ended our eight month relationship at that moment, in a blast of unchecked, angry expletives and tears.
I was heartbroken. Andy tried to talk to me, put his arms around me, but I flung him away and wouldn't and couldn't listen. He wanted me to give him one last chance, almost begging me. I swore at him and slapped his face. It might have been twice.
Then I'd escaped from the hurtful, embarrassing scene and ran out into the heavy rain storm, forgetting the umbrella in my hand, in my distress. I was desperate to get back to my place, to my sanctuary. The rain mingled with my tears as they streamed down my face. His betrayal hurt. Like a knife in my chest. A twisting, stabbing, searing pain that speared not only my fragile heart, but also my soul. That someone I had loved and trusted, had discarded me. Thrown me aside like I meant nothing to him. That pain was second only to losing a loved one, to the finality of death.
And I've known that too.
I lost my sister when I was sixteen. She was hit by a car as she ran across the road.
Just like that, her life was snuffed out.
I couldn't cope with it at first. I couldn't explain it to myself or comprehend how or where she'd gone. My younger sister Georgia. Sweet and lovely with her long brown hair and big brown eyes. Vibrant and so pretty and with her whole life ahead of her.
She had idolized me and I'd loved her to pieces.
And she was the main reason why I studied so hard after she died.
It was the way I buried my grief.
I was driven by the dire need to immerse myself in something, so all consumingly, that I couldn't feel the pain of
losing her. I put my everything into it, for the both of us.
I take a deep breath and sigh as I sit down at the table to my side watching the rain swirl around outside. I rest my elbow on the table top and place my chin in my hand, thoughtfully. My mind rambles on unstoppably.
It's been six weeks since I made that dreadful discovery, realizing how much of a fool I'd been.
I was a miserable mess for while.
Thank God for Charlie.
She was so good to me, constantly dragging me out, trying to cheer me up and listening to my mad ramblings.
I watch her sweet little face for a moment as she stands behind the counter, working.
Although she tried, I don't think she quite understood my misery. She's never had a long term relationship, so she couldn't possibly imagine the depth of my pain and my attachment to Andy. He'd become part of my life, in every sense.
I'm only just getting over him. Moments like this remind me of that fact. I still hurt inside when I remember how good we were together. If only I could erase him from my mind, and stop the torture, but I can't. I still think of him at times with a deep yearning for what could have been. He was the man I'd wanted. The one for me. Or so I thought. He was loving and kind, he brought me presents and took me on surprise outings. And he made love to me in such a way, that I really thought he meant it—that he loved me more than anything, and anyone. He spent time and money on me and was wonderful to be with. I'd begun to get my hopes up. Thinking that it would turn out right. Because I'd had a horrible failure before him. Steven had played me around, two timing me with another girl for two whole months before I found out.
I sigh loudly, choking back a tear.
I'm sick of lying cheats. I want to be valued, prized even, not a girl in reserve. I don't want to be someone to come back to after he's dipped his hand in the candy jar whenever he needs a different flavor on his taste buds.
Andy still texted me with little messages. They used to upset me, and I considered barring his number. But he'd never been forceful, unpleasant or stalked me like some ex boyfriends. He simply sent me messages. I didn't have to read them, but I always did.
I remember one and smile. “Miss you. miss you. miss you. I just miss you.”
I wonder if he ever misses me when he's fucking Simone.
I've been taken for a ride and I feel used and jaded by love. Or moreso by the lack of it. I'm tired of looking and searching for Mr Right. And I definitely need some lighter fun in my life.
The rain starts tumbling down, noisily, in a heavy waterfall, splashing on the sidewalk and sheeting the glass of the window, running down it in rivulets. A momentary flash of lightning lights up the dark sky and the low rumble of thunder follows. I lean over the table to the wall beyond, and turn the light dimmer switch up a notch, to cheer the place a little. But I need more than a brighter light to cheer myself. I stare blindly at the rain as it washes the world clean outside. If only my heart could be washed clean so easily.
I'm having a down moment.
I draw in a deep breath through my nose and puff it out as I stand. My chair scrapes over the floor noisily. I tuck it back, under the table, and give the old thin man sitting at the table nearby a little smile. He's sipping his coffee, staring at me in a trance. His eyes twinkle and his face lights up as his trance is broken and he smiles back. It warms me a little inside. I like to maintain a happy outer shell. Even if my inner self isn't of the same mind.
I busy myself for a while, mindlessly cleaning and tidying like a demon, and manage to shake off the gloom of my past love life.
As the skies start to clear outside, simultaneously, my heart begins to feel a little happier again.
On the whole I'm a happy person. I don't have too many times like that.
I can think of Georgia with love, and thankfulness, at having known her, for her short life of eleven years. I still think of her so often, wondering what she'd be like now and how her life would be. She'd be almost eighteen. I imagine giving her sisterly advice about her studies, clothes, make up and guys—warning her off the over-popular hot guys at college, the ones like Andy.
I know Andy really isn't worth the effort of brooding over. But I can't help have the odd moment of weakness.
I'm sure I'll forget him eventually. It's only been six weeks, after all. Until then, it's only natural if some 'what if's' and 'if only's' and a fair number of 'what the fucking hell's' pass through my mind.
Chapter Four
The days pass by with several visits from Jase and only one from Sean. The whole five minutes Sean is in the shop, he's being fawned over and monopolized by Charlotte, as she makes his drinks. I get the clear message from her, to stay out of their space.
I catch his eye, and we smile at each other secretly when Charlotte has her back turned. His eyes run up and down me like before, and I can't help but respond by looking at him in the same way. That short wordless greeting gets me going pretty fast. My stomach rolls and everything I am is instantly hot and bothered.
I turn the other way and pretend to be busy.
My mind wanders to how I feel about Jase. He's started to talk to me and look at me possessively. As if I'm his already. Despite his good looks, I don't want him. He doesn't set my stomach a flutter, like Sean just did, or make me melt when he looks at me. And if I'm going to have a quick fling, there needs to be some burn before the bang.
*
I'm rushing around on Saturday afternoon, which, I soon discover, is our busiest time of the week. It's a whir of cappuccinos, lattes and home made blueberry muffins. They're our top seller. Mrs Santini, the owner of the coffee shop, is a baker by trade. This shop is her sideline. Her bakery is located two blocks away and is very popular and well known.
It's late in the afternoon, Charlotte gets a phone call from her, and being the junior member of staff, I'm sent out by my supervisor for the short walk down the street, to collect the food she has kindly donated to our party. It's a birthday gift for Charlotte and I.
I arrive at the tiny shop a few minutes later and I'm welcomed inside by Eva Santini with a loud greeting.
“Oh, hello sweetheart, how are you?” She wipes her hands on the edge of her wide floury apron and smooths a loose gray wisp of her hair back inside her white baker's cap. She's a lovely round-bodied woman. Shaped like a barrel. Plump cheeked and plump fingered, and covered from head to toe, in a floury dust. Or maybe it's icing sugar?
“Fine thanks. And you?”
“I can't move, for your party. Take it away, quick.”
I laugh as I walk around the counter and see the pile of eight large boxes stacked there.
“God, there's only a hundred of us not a thousand,” I say with widening eyes.
“Mmm, I got a little carried away,” she agrees. “There's a big cake and all kinds of stuff, but it's not all food. I've just bought you a dozen bottles of champagne from the Wine Factory across the street.”
“Oh,you didn't have to do that, that's so kind of you, Mrs Santini. Thank you.” I give her a hug. My heart swells with her generosity. God knows how much a dozen bottles of fizz cost. It's a real treat. I can't even remember the last time I drunk it.
“You're very welcome. And you're doing so well in the job, Lissa. My customers are really pleased with you and Charlotte. You make a good team.”
“Aww, thank you.” My heart swells even more with her compliments.
“The shop has never been so clean and well run,” she continues, “I'm glad Vicky upped and left me now. And this is my little thank you. Just take it away, before it trips me up.”
I'm so very pleased to be appreciated and grateful for her rather large contribution to our party. But I'm unclear how I'm going to carry it all. Then I have an idea.
“Give me a minute. I need to get myself a man,” I say, giggling.
“Don't we all.” She laughs loudly with me.
I leave the shop with the smallest box of food, which still weighs a ton, dropping it off in the
coffee shop. Then I walk across the street and ring the doorbell at Sean's place. I guess Jase will be keen to help.
My jaw drops on the floor as Sean appears. He's shirtless and so smoking hot, I almost have a seizure. I try and focus my swimming head and stare resolutely at his face, as I regain my equilibrium.
“Hi, I need some help carrying our party supplies from the bakery up the street.” I keep my eyes fixed on his. “Are either of you free for a while?”
“Yeah, sure, I could do with a break, we can use my car if you like. Come in while I get dressed.”
I'm mount the last step, and enter. Suddenly Jase rushes to my side like a tornado.
“It's okay, bro. You finish off in there. I'm on it,” Jase cuts in. He's pushing me out and shutting the door in Sean's astonished and thunderous face, within a few blurred seconds.
He takes my arm and waltzes off with me.
“How've you been?” he asks.
“Since I last saw you, two hours ago, just fine.” I laugh. “How about you?”
“Real pleased to see you, baby.”
I look all around me pointedly.
“I don't see any baby,” I splutter with laughter.
“Sorry, slip of the tongue.” He chuckles and gives me a hot and suggestive look. One that clearly says, 'you'll be my baby by tomorrow morning, girl'.
I can't risk upsetting him, in case he doesn't come to the party and Sean doesn't turn up either. Charlotte would be somewhat pissed, as he's all she ever talks about.
But although I like Jase, I don't want him to completely monopolize my whole birthday party. I want to mingle and enjoy myself talking to my friends who I haven't seen for a long time. I don't want to be cornered with Jase all over me, thinking it's a done deal. And seeing Sean just now, has flipped my applecart right over. I have far stronger feeling for Sean than Jase. I know it's only lust, but Jase doesn't hit my spot in the same way.
I need to give the both of them a wide berth at the party.
“We haven't seen too much of Sean lately, has he gone off coffee?” I mention.