Frozen Over

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Frozen Over Page 11

by Tarrah Anders


  “How much?”

  “How much?” She questions.

  “Yes, how much do you generally get paid to do this?” I sneer.

  “It usually comes out to about $300 a week on a good week.”

  “That’s nothing. Quit the job and I’ll pay you $300 a week to make up the difference.”

  “Tyson, don’t.”

  “Don’t what? I don’t want you getting other guys off over the phone, you’re my girlfriend if I remember correctly.”

  “That’s beside the point. I’m acting, it’s a role. It’s a job, I’m not getting off on it too!” She’s getting even more upset.

  “The point is my girlfriend will not be working at a job like this! The only guy my girlfriend will be getting off is me!” I stand and begin pacing in my bedroom.

  “I don’t want you paying my way Tyson, I can do things on my own!”

  “I hate repeating myself Allie, but no girlfriend of mine is going to be doing something like this for work! It’s cheating! You’re getting someone other than me off, that’s infidelity. I don’t put up with infidelity; I didn’t have relationships before because of this exact reason. Fuck!” I’m pulling at my hair now, my pacing picking up speed.

  All I wanted to do tonight was eat some food, cheer up Allison, fuck her in the shower and throughout the night, not have a conversation like this, about this. This isn’t how I envisioned my evening going. I punch the wall, my fist going through the dry-wall.

  “What are you saying?” She asks, looking up to me with unshed tears in her eyes.

  “I’m saying,” Fuck, what am I saying? “I’m saying that you stop doing this night job of yours or we’re done.”

  “You can’t expect me to make that decision on the spot like this!” She pleads, the tears now streaming down her face.

  “Maybe it’s unfair of me to expect you to, but I can’t in good conscience continue if my girl is mind-fucking some tools over the phone several times a night. It’s that or it’s us. The cards are dealt babe, you laid them out, this is quite the secret. How are you going to play your hand?”

  Please quit this fucking job. I silently beg her.

  ***

  She left my house four hours ago and I’ve been running on my treadmill for the past two hours, switching between walking and jogging. My brain has shut off and all I am feeling is the numbness settling in.

  This is precisely the reason why I don’t fucking do relationships. Someone comes along and fucks it up. Apparently with me, that seems to be some form of cheating, and yes, I consider her talking on the phone with the point of the conversation to get someone on the other end with a boner to my ladies voice to climax and get off, as cheating.

  She didn’t say anything as she left, there were a lot of tears shed from her and after a minute or two of her sitting in my bed and me standing against a wall staring at her, she hung her head and left, defeated.

  My feet pounded the rubber slip mat as I pushed my incline up, my breath never wavering. It was getting late and I needed someone to spitball all of this with. I slowed my pace and lowered my incline again and once I was at a slow walking pace, I called for Beth.

  “It’s late Ty.” She answers.

  “Sorry, but I need to talk.” I say.

  “Alright then, talk.” She sounds like she’s positioning herself into a comfortable position.

  “Can you swing over?”

  “I’m lying in bed, watching Seinfield. I’ve consumed maybe half a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream, I’m not driving over to your house right now, what’s on your mind my friend. Tell Miss Miagi everything.”

  “Allison had a pretty big secret to tell me tonight, and she told me. I may have given her an ultimatum and then she took off.” I explain, trying to not divulge Allison’s secret.

  “Holy shit, she told you!” Beth gasps.

  That wasn’t a question what the fuck!

  “What? Did you know?” I ask, feeling my face redden from anger.

  “Listen, she was afraid to tell you, but didn’t know when would be the best time to do so. Once you guys became an official couple, she was so torn, so she asked me for advice.”

  “Well fuck. Why wouldn’t she tell me when we first met? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “This wasn’t my place to tell you. Just like how your past is yours to tell her. And seriously? ‘Hi, my name is Allison, and I’m a model, but on some night to make ends meet and with a flexible schedule, I am a phone sex operator.’ Do you really think that would have been a good way to start up conversation, let alone a relationship?”

  “You have a point.” I grunt conceding not at all enjoying the fact that she is right.

  “So what now?” Beth asks.

  “I stand by what I said to her, its infidelity. If she’s with me, she shouldn’t be working getting other people off. You know how I feel about that shit.”

  “Yeah, but did you tell her that?” Beth counters.

  “I told her that I thought it was cheating, I didn’t go into the reasoning behind it.” I shrug.

  “So you said it’s either your job or me?”

  “Yeah. I offered to give her the money in the difference.”

  “Ty! She’s not someone you can buy! Think more logical than that. She’s a human being, someone that you obviously care a great amount about. So what happened?” Beth shrieks.

  “She told me, there was yelling, there was crying and then she left.” I’ve hit the stop button on the treadmill.

  “What’s going to happen? You’re chasing after her, right?” Beth asks.

  “No. I gave her the options, she apparently didn’t chose me.”

  “So you offered her money thinking that was okay, of course she wasn’t going to accept it. That wasn’t the point of her having this job.”

  “She’s getting money for making dudes come, isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Ugh, you’re so infuriating sometimes. That’s not the point.” She grumbles.

  “Fuck the point, I said it to her and I’ll say it to you. My girlfriend will not be talking to other guys to get them off; the only person she’d be getting off would be me!” I hang up and power off my phone.

  I slammed my fist on the railing of the treadmill. Beth has a point, and I know I shouldn’t have tried to offer her money. I know Allison wouldn’t have taken that, not just because it was a ridiculous offer, but because of pride.

  I fucking hate relationships!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ALLISON

  I fucking hate relationships. This is the prime reason that I try my best to keep my head above water and stay out of them. All they end up doing is causing heartbreak, self doubt and annoyance.

  I left Tyson’s bedroom with him standing still as a statue against the wall. I walked past him, wiping tears and didn’t say a word. I found my way through his house to the front door and couldn’t figure out how to open it in the frenzy that I was in. Lincoln must have heard me fumbling from the kitchen and came to my rescue. He looked into my eyes with sadness and mouthed that he was sorry. He gave me a strong hug and then unlocked the door. He stood there until I was at the gate of the property out of view. Tyson didn’t emerge.

  The drive home was a blur, in between sobbing uncontrollably and the blurred vision from the tears, I’m just happy that I made it home in one piece. I sat in my living room with the flickering lights of the television lighting up the living room for who knows how long. Several hours of me staring at the screen, I was unsure as to what I was even watching. My phone began ringing.

  “Allison?” Beth’s concerned voice asks.

  “Yeah.” I say emotionless.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I can lie and say that I’m fabulous, but you and I both know the answer to that, I’m sure.” I say.

  “I talked to him. He’s angry, but I think that once he calms down, he’ll figure out that he was wrong.” She says.

  “I didn’t choose him. I
walked away.”

  “I know. He told me he offered you money.”

  “I’m not a hooker. I don’t need his money.” I say defensively.

  “Hey, I’m not choosing sides and being put in the middle here. Listen, he can be a royal pain in the ass, he gets that from his bitch of a mother. But he has his reasons for everything he does. Ty is one step ahead most of the time, he has to be to protect himself. With you, he lived in the moment, he let down his defenses and I haven’t seen him that way in years. Don’t give up on him, just not yet.”

  “He’s the one who gave up. He tried to buy me off, so I would do what he wanted of me. I mean really, what kind of person would I have been then, I’m an independent person, that would be far from it.”

  Silence meets me on the other end. Beth sighs loudly.

  “Look, this isn’t my place to tell you, but someone has to if he won’t. Did he tell you he was cheated on? Did he mention that he was lied to by his girlfriend, someone that he thought he was going to marry?”

  That had me snapping back to reality and my chin quivers. Feeling sorry for him and feeling like I did the same to him, even though it’s different circumstances.

  “He still didn’t give me much choice Beth. He gave me the choice to choose, and I had to choose right then what I was to do, with no assurance that I would be okay. I had to choose him or making sure I had a roof over my head.” I sniff, more tears streaming down my face. “I’ve been on my own for years, taking care of my own crap. He can’t sweep on in my life and just do everything for me. That’s not how I was built.”

  “Remember, I get what you’re saying. But think of this, do you think he would let that roof over your head disappear? He wouldn’t, and you know Tyson well enough by now to really think about that and know what I’m saying is true.”

  “That’s not the point, I can’t let someone pay my way that would defeat all the hard work I’ve put in making sure that I took care of my shit. I did fine, all this time. Then he comes and makes me feel like a horrible person as well as breaking my h-h-heart!” I hiccup.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I should have just told him about it when we first started, before feelings were involved. Before I fell in love with the asshole.” I sob.

  Another gasp on the other side of the line has me snapping back to attention. I just told his friend, possibly his best friend that I had fallen for him. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  “Thanks for the call Beth. I’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. We’ll both go on as if neither of us existed to another. If I have to attend company events, then I will and avoid him at all costs. I will hold my head up high, because that all I know how to do!”

  “If you need anything, please call me. I won’t tell him. I know he’ll turn around, just please don’t give up and close yourself off completely.” She pleads with me.

  I hang up, not giving myself a chance to further crumble. I turn off my phone and slink down on the couch and stare off into the reality show playing on the screen.

  ***

  If I have to look at another equation, I may just chuck my textbook through the pub window. I rub my forehead in frustration and hang my head in my hands.

  “Where the hell in life will we use any of this?” I groan.

  “Maybe I might meet some sexy mathematician who likes to talk dirty to me using exponentials and likes rewarding me for the correct answer.” Mel daydreams.

  I lift my head up and chuckle. It’s the first real laugh I’ve had in days.

  “I think you read too many books, sexy mathematicians don’t exist in the real world.” Dean provides.

  “You never saw my eighth grade algebra teacher.” She smiles.

  “I haven’t heard of a romance novel with a sexy mathematician. Librarians totally, but it’s never someone that’s into math. Math just isn’t sexy.” I rattle on.

  We ate our greasy burgers and drank a pitcher of beer while studying for the pop quiz that Dean heard about the previous week. We sat at the bar until they closed, eventually giving up on studying and resorting to drinking like sailors.

  “I think the bartender is cute.” Mel slurs.

  “I seriously doubt that he’s a mathematician.” Dean jokes.

  “All bartenders are something else, they’re never just a bartender.” She tries to point in his direction, yet she aim’s at the door twenty feet to the right of him. Yeah, she’s that drunk.

  “I think we need to get this one home.” Dean says.

  “Poppycock! I’m drive enough to sober!” Mel attempts to put her hands on her hips but misses by a long shot, almost coming face to face with the floor.

  The bar was in walking distance from my house, so we all walked from there. After settling the tab, we situated Mel between us and began walking out of the establishment. She attempted a sexy wave to the bartender, who happened to be a balding mid-age greasy chubby guy with beady eyes. He lifted his chin in acknowledgement as we left.

  The walk to my apartment was uneventful. I had an eerie feeling of being watched, yet played it off to having one too many drinks when we were supposed to be studying. We approached my door and I sucked in a breath as I saw a note taped to my door. Dean gave me a inquisitive look, but said nothing as I removed it from the door and unlocked it. We practically dragged Mel through the living room and dropped her on the couch, where she promptly passed out.

  “Everything okay?” Dean asks, nodding to the note I had thrown on the counter.

  “Eh, who knows. What do we do with her?”

  “Let her sleep it off. I’ll take her home with me, since her car is at my place.” He says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, unsure about the nature of their relationship.

  “Yeah, she owes me breakfast anyways.” He shrugs smiling. “Can I use your restroom before I haul her away and drop her in the woods?”

  I laugh as I point to the bathroom and as he leaves I stare at the note on the counter wondering what the contents hold, wondering if it’s good or bad. Deciding to wait until Dean and Mel left, I put the note out of my thoughts and walked to where Mel was. Dean returned a moment later flicking water at me.

  “Don’t cha just hate it when you pee on your hands?” He teases.

  “What are you, like five?” I laugh wiping my cheek.

  Dean lifts his hand and wipes another drop of water off of my forehead, his hand lingering. He’s looking at me, weirdly, looking at my lips.

  “Al, I-.” He’s interrupted by Mel farting, loudly.

  Thankful for the ruined moment, we both look wide-eyed at Mel and laugh.

  “I’ll help you get her to your car.” I offer, sliding my arm under Mel and lifting her before she completely bombs my place.

  At his car, I say goodnight, and again, have a strange feeling of being watched.

  Too much alcohol tonight. I shake my head.

  “Hey Al! Hold up.” Dean says jogging back around the car and stopping a foot in front of me.

  “I was wondering, if sometime…” I stop him by putting up my hand, knowing where he was going by his nervous body language.

  “I’m sorry Dean, I can’t.” I cut him off, smiling at him sympathetically.

  His defeated look is obvious, but he nods and walks away with a little less swagger in his walk.

  I return to my apartment, lock the door and lean against it. My eyes dart to the counter, to the note.

  Curiosity killed the cat as I unfolded the note.

  It was from Tyson. He was here!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TYSON

  I sat in one of my cars outside of her apartment all night. She got home close to two in the morning, and she wasn’t alone. She and another person, looked to be male basically carried a female to her apartment and then moments later out to a car. I watched as the guy ran back over to her, said something to her and then went back to his car, as if he was rejected. I smiled in that moment, possibly one of the few smiles that have cracked on my face since she
left my house a week ago.

  While she was out, I had taped a copy of the newspaper article about the party for the summer pre-launch party at my home with a note. It had a photo of the two of us, arm in arm with a comment about me being a taken man, something that no one thought would ever happen, especially me. I paired the picture with a note asking her if her decision was final. I wanted to pound on her door and insist she let me in. I wanted to fuck her against her kitchen table, her hallway wall and against her shower wall. I wanted to make love to her in her bed, on her couch and on the floor. I wanted her to change her mind on her decision.

  I had gone an entire week without talking to her before, but that’s when I knew that she was waiting for me. When I knew that I had the upper hand and could see her and speak to her when I wanted. I possibly took that shit for granted. And now, she was the one with the upper hand, she could change this whole outcome.

  I’ve been a miserable prick at the office, Beth has tried to talk to me, but I just brush her off as easily as I have with everyone else. I have been working twelve hour days and working out like a beast while at home. On the way home, every night though, I stop here across the street from her apartment complex in hopes to catch a glance of her. I’ve seen her several times, and luckily she hasn’t seen me. The spark in her smile is gone; I noticed that it seemed forced as she spoke to a neighbor, or when she would be walking out to her car. If only she could understand why her doing this job was such an issue for me. But I’m not going to be the one to cave. Granted, I’m practically a stalker, but I’m not going to her first.

  Her going out tonight was stupid, because I knew that she had an early call time for some of the new summer items that were delayed and not ready when she originally did the shoot. I also may have had a hand in assisting the design department with some new ideas to add last minute. She had to be at my building for a morning call time. She will likely avoid me at all costs, as Beth did mention that would be the case if Allison was supposed to be within my vicinity.

 

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