Overlooked

by Lulu Pratt

  “So, come with me to dinner and—” The phone rings again. David grins like an idiot and stands up, a finger in my face before he goes to pace across the length of my office floor. “Brad! How’s it going, baby? Did you get a chance to see the script? Sure, I can talk, I’m just with my lawyer. No, no. He can wait. I pay him enough to do what I say.”

  At this, David shoots me a wink.

  His pacing takes him to the windows at the front of my office, with a great view of the city. He stands there, blabbing and bragging about some movie he’s putting together, disrespectful as fuck. I swear to God, he acts like I have no other clients. Like he’s the singular most important thing in my life right now.

  Well, fuck ‘im.

  Screw him. Overwhelmed with anger at him, I stealthily unzip my pants and pull my dick out under my desk. After a quick glance his way to make sure he’s still acting like an ape, I pull up the file of Kate’s topless photos on my laptop and two clicks later have a pretty solid hard-on. It’s stupid the shit this girl does to me. She takes my mind off my stress and makes me do crazy shit.

  Fucking her at her apartment did not pull her out of my system like I’d hoped. If anything, it sank me deeper, which is quickly becoming dangerous. For the moment, though, it paid off in spades.

  I snap a quick shot of my dick in my hand, painfully thread it back into my pants, and send it to Kate with a quick note:

  David is here. Thinking of you.

  She’ll probably hate me for it. Women are so finicky about the dick pick. If they’re horny, they’re happy for it. If they aren’t, they get pissed. It’s walking a fine line I don’t usually have time to figure out.

  David turns and gives me a thumbs up and goes back to pacing, along with a series of hand motions I assume is supposed to let me know he’s wrapping up soon. My hate for this guy grows daily.

  He finally says goodbye and plops back in my chair just as my phone lights up. I grab it before he can look and have to steady myself. Kate sent back a picture of her draped in nothing but a towel, a little leg poking out. It is one of the sexiest poses I’ve seen her in.

  “What’s so good over there?” David asks, leaning in. He’s like a goddamn dog with a nose that can sniff smut out.

  “Oh, nothing. Some sex tape news about that hotel heiress—”

  “London Holton? Eric, that girl can lay down some pussy. We were in Verona once for a shoot.”

  He launches into his story and it takes all I have to not hurl my phone in his face. Instead, I flick my dick under my desk until the erection dies. This whole thing is a goddamn nightmare and it’s all his fault.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  KATE

  Vivian’s office is probably one of my favorite places in Los Angeles, which is saying something. Her office overlooks the beach, with perfect white-capped waves as a gorgeous background to all the pleasantries we must sort through. Every time I feel overwhelmed, I stand by a window and just take it all in: the rolling waves, the birds flying by, the perfect blue skies.

  Everything isn’t so bad when you’re on the beach. Even if you’re on the beach to discuss a divorce from a sadistic, womanizing, manipulative manwhore. Look at the sand and feel better.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Vivian concludes, scribbling a few more notes on a legal pad. “It’s working. David looks like an asshole in the media and you look like a woman just trying to move on with her life. That should help our case greatly.”

  I like that she’s old school, always scribbling notes on legal pads and transcribing them later, taking audio notes on a small recorder that was probably made in 1995, using a paper filing system. I’ve seen her open a laptop twice during all our visits.

  Old school means she doesn’t rely on technology to make herself tough. She knows how to find things without having to consult Private Detective Google. Though I’m sure she does plenty of that, too.

  “You look good.” Vivian encourages. “You’ve got a healthy glow about you, despite all this. A big change from the beginning. That’s good. It means you’re handling this in a healthy way.”

  “You could say that.” I try to suppress a smile. All this talk today about being a woman moving on has made me feel so much better about what has been happening behind closed doors. “I feel better, mostly.”

  “I guess I need to consider this hot yoga mess you keep going on about. If I can sweat for an hour and look like that? Sign me up. Usually I don’t look that happy unless I’ve gotten laid.”

  At this, Vivian pauses. She looks up from her notepad and stares hard at me.

  “You aren’t sleeping with someone, are you?”

  “No.” I answer as truthfully as possible. There’s never really been any sleeping involved. This reminds me of the first interlude with Eric, the one that ended disastrously, where we both made a point to outline no sleeping was involved. “I have not been sleeping with anyone. I have considered getting a cat, though, or maybe a dog to cuddle with. Beds can get a little lonely at night, you know? But the upkeep is hard with my busy schedule. Haven’t made a decision yet.”

  “Kate.” Vivian squints at me. “Are you fucking someone?”

  I become very interested in my latest manicure. The color reminds me of ocean water, which is always so soothing. Also, my nails don’t have the laser focus Vivian currently has, which is sort of terrifying.

  “You do understand, as I’ve repeatedly told you, the state of California does not recognize legal separation unless specifically filed, correct?”

  “Of course.” I nod. “You were always very clear about that.”

  “And you two elected not to go the route of legal separation, saying divorce was the only option.”

  “It is.” I nod harder. There was no way I was remaining attached to that asshole any longer than necessary. “It is the only option.”

  “You then realize the state still recognizes you two as married.”

  “It’s only a piece of paper.” My cheeks flush and the room spins, just a bit. I never liked feeling like I was in trouble, not even as a child. I wish I had a better poker face. “We’re already filed, the proceedings are going on. This is just over assets and money.”

  Vivian leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Everything about her in this moment is cross: her eyes, her lips, her brow, her arms. Everything. She may as well be a jailer, waiting to lock me in.

  “You just said I looked like a woman getting her life back together.”

  “A woman does not need a man to have her shit together, Kate.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  “Look, this just sort of… happened.” I put on a mask of ambivalence. It’s one I used a lot with David. “It’s nothing serious. It’s nothing loud. We’re quiet, I promise.”

  “Who is it?”

  Well. I guess I should have seen that question coming.

  “Kate, if this is someone who has the power to ruin your case, this could totally destroy us. We are currently nailing this fucker to the wall because he’s a cheating bastard, okay? We are laying out a case that shows him using you and your marriage for his own personal gain, which then presents you as a role in all the assets he has in his Swiss account. I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “It is.” A fire nips at my veins. “This is what I want. He only has that stupid account because of me, and he moved everything over to it. He doesn’t deserve all the money, Vivian. This was my life, too. My career, too. I dedicated everything to him and he swept the vault clean.”

  “Good. Remember that. Now who is the mystery lover, so I can prepare for the backlash when this inevitably hits the news?”

  “It won’t hit the news. I told you, we’re careful.”

  “Sure, right. Everyone thinks they are careful. Until they aren’t. Do you know why family law is so lucrative in this town, Kate? Because no one is as careful as they claim. This has the potential to ruin you. Do you understand that?”

>   “Everything in this town can ruin you. What’s a sex partner?”

  “In a divorce case? Everything. Don’t get involved in the same bullshit as David, Kate. You’re better than that.”

  “This is not the same as that asshole.” My mask can’t block out the punctuating anger. “David fucks anything with a pulse. He’s been out almost every night with a different woman on his arm. He had at least two girlfriends while we were married. He goes to strip clubs, dance clubs, fancy fucking bars with piles of groupies. Everyone knows he’s out banging half the city. This is not the same thing.”

  “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Kate. And his numerous transgressions don’t overshadow any you could populate. You don’t think the media isn’t chomping at the bit for a chance to see Golden Girl Kate McArthur fall from her horse? This place thrives on lives being ruined. They only need one nibble that you’re having an affair and it’s over.”

  “I’m not cheating.” I spit the foul words out. The beach looks fuzzy and feels disorienting, not soothing. “That’s David’s thing. David cheats. I’m simply moving on. This is weeks from being over. The only thing in our way right now is paperwork.”

  “Sure, sure.” Vivian cocks an eyebrow at me. “Paperwork and a fuckload of money. End it.”

  I don’t say anything because there’s nothing to say. She’s right, but I don’t think I have it in me to walk away. Not anymore.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KATE

  The bath tub doesn’t provide me any answers tonight. Nor has it for the last several nights. Since Vivian told me to cut things off with Eric, I’ve been walking the beach for hours and soaking in the tub for almost as long.

  It’s not often the water lets me down, but this week it has.

  Staving off Vivian’s storm is no small feat, either. She’s livid I won’t tell her who I’m occasionally sharing a bed with and has threatened to send a private detective after me. That alone has kept me quiet. Lily and I have worked on the gala several nights out of my dining room simply because I was too scared to step foot outside.

  It’s not so easy, deciding how to live my life. Objectively, it looks so simple: tell Eric we are no longer sleeping together and go back to late nights with dirty Thumblr posts and a vibrator. Objectively, I should sit at home and let David continue to look like the world’s biggest asshole so I can sweep the floor clean with his big, stupid face.

  Objectively, I shouldn’t touch Eric to begin with because he is the enemy who made me question my existence.

  Turns out I don’t do well with objective thinking. None of that matters. What matters is he told me I am perfect. What matters is he told me I am a fever in his veins. What matters is we both collide with one another, no matter how twisted this entire situation gets.

  “He fucks all his clients’ wives.” Lily yells at me over the phone. “This is his whole game plan, Kate. He sleeps with you and then he uses the evidence to prove you’re trash. You had a leg up on him with the video in your possession, but now you keep sleeping with him.”

  “You told me to do it in the first place! Remember, you told me to!”

  “I told you to stop acting like this was some junior high crush. It’s revenge. Why the fuck are you still screwing around with him?”

  I have nothing to say to this except “it’s different”. There’s no way he tells every woman he sleeps with they are perfect. There’s no way he shows up at their apartment door, feverish and disheveled, so he can kiss her before words are spoken.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can feel it, Lily. When we are together, the connection is real. The connection is unlike anything I’ve ever had before.”

  “You’re romanticizing his cock. Stop it. You’ve had David’s puny dick for too many years and you’re just now realizing what else is out there. Do not marry the first big dick you come across, Kate. It’ll end in another divorce.”

  “I never said that word. Why, after everything, would I say that word? I’m just saying it’s complicated and I can’t let go.”

  “Because you don’t want to.”

  “Exactly.”

  Lily sighs heavily. I drain the tub and slide into a robe in the silence, wondering if I really was the problem. Somehow, I ended up more confused than ever before. Nothing in my life can be easy.

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Almost a week ago.”

  “When was the last time you talked to him?”

  “I don’t know.” I lie. Yesterday. We last spoke yesterday. “It’s not like we spend all night on the phone or text each other all day.”

  “Dirty pictures?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh, yeah. This sounds like true love to me.”

  “Stop it.” I scowl at the phone. “This is important to me, Lily. He’s important to me.”

  “He is a sexual revolution and nothing more. As your best friend, it’s my duty to—”

  A hard, imposing knock on the door echoes through my apartment. I toss off a quick goodbye and hang up on Lily before she can say anything else, and all but float to the door. I’m nothing but full body tingles and excitement.

  Forget all the mess. I just want to get lost in Eric. We’ll call it one more time. For now.

  Although, if Vivian really is checking up on me, she will absolutely murder me if she catches me with him. Another mental scale of good versus bad decisions weighs before me as another knock hits my door.

  Maybe I should behave. Maybe I should say goodbye. For now. We can always reconnect after the divorce has been finalized, right? This would prove that we’re more than just occasional fuck buddies.

  Except it’s not Eric outside my door.

  “I’ve missed seeing you like this.” The voice that makes my skin crawl murmurs. David walks right into my apartment. “Robe, hair piled on top of your head. It’s very sexy.”

  His words are like poison to my skin. “What do you want, David?”

  “For you.” He presents a bouquet of pink roses. “A token of apology. I know I need more than that, but it’s a start.”

  I don’t touch them. They could be laced with something.

  “Look. I’m an idiot. A first-class idiot. I know you know this. I just want to tell you that you’re right and I’m sorry.” David wipes tears from his eyes. “I have been so lost without you, Kate. Nothing feels real anymore. I’ve tried to fill your void in my life and nothing compares.”

  I snort at this, but quietly. Seeing him cry is… unnerving.

  “Please, Kate, let’s talk this out. I love you. I miss you. I need you. I was a dumbass and I will apologize on my knees for the rest of my life. Please, take me back.”

  “David.” I struggle to find words because I can’t even comprehend what I’m seeing right now. “You can’t just come in here, after everything that’s happened, and expect me to take you back. I’m done. We are done.”

  “Please, Kate.” His voice drops to a whisper, teary streams turn to rivers on his cheeks. “Just talk to me. One drink to let me plead my case. Please.”

  My arms stay tight at my sides, my personal shield. Still, watching him cry is a terrible thing. My resolve shatters in a blink.

  “Fine. We can talk. I’m not coming back, but we can talk.” I walk backwards to my room to keep an eye on him. “I’ll change. You have one drink. That’s it.”

  “Thank you.” He sniffs.

  The entire time I’m pulling on some clothes, I feel like an idiot. I have no desire to get back with this man but I can’t just leave him sobbing on my couch. I’m not heartless. One drink, he can pay, and then I gain a clean conscience.

  Except he is now naked in my living room. I squeeze my eyes before reopening them to make sure I’m not seeing things. Nope, he’s definitely naked in my living room. Grin on his face.

  Somewhere below the smooth surface of Kate McArthur, a volcano erupts.

  “Get out!” I yell, throwing everything within reach at him. “Ge
t the hell out of my apartment!”

  He doesn’t have time to plead or beg. He doesn’t have time to argue. I chase him out of my apartment, stark naked, with a weighted candlestick, and secure every lock on my door.

  “I need my clothes!” he yells through the door.

  The neatly folded pile rests on my chaise. I dump them out the window, into the evening traffic. The last thing I see is his button-down flying through the wind like a kite.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ERIC

  “Harder.”

  I do.

  “Harder.”

  I go harder.

  “Fucking harder, man. What is this, kindergartener hour?” Paxton laughs at me. “This is some weak shit.”

  “Don’t push it again, Pax. Last time, you had a black eye.”

  “Eh.” Paxton shrugs it off. “The girls loved it, so bring it on, old man.”

  I channel every floating force of confusion and frustration to my hands. David’s face, Kate’s tits, my landlord refusing to fix the shower for the third time. All of it goes flowing through me and into the bag. Sweat stings and my nose runs, but still I throw punches.

  Sometimes, I picture Paxton’s smug face, too.

  Finally, I collapse against the bag and throw my gloves to the ground. My lungs seize up and I need the space to walk around and breathe. I don’t need to hear Paxton’s shit, I don’t need to see Geoff cackling like a know-it-all jackass, and I don’t need the rest of the gym to see me currently falling to pieces.

  Every night for the last week, I’ve jacked off to pictures of Kate. From the moment I left her apartment, I’ve been insatiable. It’s like being back in college again, jacking off every three seconds because I caught a flash of a girl’s thigh while walking through the dorms.

  It’s maddening. I’m an adult. I fuck when I want to fuck, but I always have control. Because of Kate, that control is now slipping.

  “Look, you just need to finally admit this shit.”

  Paxton jogs to catch up with me near the ring. A pair of women from my office is beating the shit out of each other. It usually cheers me up. Today it doesn’t.