Strangely Amazing

by Amiee Smith

  “Thanks, Lynn. I’m trying. Really trying. Who’s next?”

  “Nick asked me to marry him,” Lynn blurts out.

  “I knew it!” Brit says.

  “When?” Claire asks.

  “Like, every time we’re together.”

  “And what do you say?” Jen asks.

  “Nothing. It’s way too soon for me to give up my freedom. I don’t want to see other men. I just don’t want to overwhelm myself with a relationship.”

  “Well, maybe Nick is not the right man for you,” Jen jabs, her tone sharp.

  “No! Nick is totally right for me.”

  “Then stop psyching yourself out and accept his proposal,” Jen says.

  “No. Lynn needs to say yes when she’s ready,” Claire offers.

  “Michael asked me to marry him too. Well, we agreed to get married,” I share.

  “What do you mean you agreed to get married?” Claire asks.

  “It was all very civilized. His attorney drafted a contract. 20 more dates and then we get married. I move in immediately. Pregnancy in a year. He signed over the Pac Heights house to me. I can only accept jobs in California. And any overseas research I want to do, we’ll travel together for up to six weeks at a time, twice a year.”

  Lynn stops abruptly in the middle of the trail and focuses on me.

  “You gave up all your professional freedom? What about Sweden? What about following the science?”

  “No. I can still do what I want to do. Just in a different way.”

  “Wait. You’re the woman who wanted to eradicate disease last weekend and now you’re limiting yourself to only working in California?” Brit asks.

  “Like your situation with Alex, it’s complicated. Michael… has unique needs. I’m in love with him, so I’m willing to make it work.”

  “Make his life work. You gave yourself up for a man!” Lynn yells.

  “Lynn, you might be projecting. Lilly and Michael created an arrangement that works for them,” Claire asserts.

  “Yeah, Lynn. Michael is crazy about Lilly,” Dana says.

  “No! He’s just crazy! I would not tell you any of this if I wasn’t genuinely concerned. I never meddle. Scheme, maybe. Lilly, Michael continued to hit on me after he knew Nick and I were together. He typed a note in my phone to call him if my relationship doesn’t work out. And when I got back from my Downtown L.A. adventure…”

  “When Lynn got lost,” Jen says.

  “I wasn’t lost! …Michael was at Nick’s house. He whispered in my ear… I would always be the one for him. I played it off and he left. I know Michael has feelings for you. I’m telling you this now because I think you need to give this relationship longer than two weeks to be sure you are making the best long-term decisions for you.”

  My heart sinks into my belly and nausea sets in. I turn around and hustle down the mountain. I need the truth, but I’m not going to find it on this dirt trail. It’s waiting for me in a tent at Claire’s house.

  For the first time since I moved to California, I wish I had my own car.

  CHAPTER 22:

  MICHAEL AHMED

  I’m studying the maps app for the best route from here to Beverly Hills. I’ll let Lilly drive us home. The trip will help her get acclimated to the freeway system, so she’ll feel comfortable driving her car. The red BMW i3 I ordered for her will be delivered on Monday morning, and I want her to be ready to drive anywhere she wants to go.

  After tearing down the tents (Nick and Jon helped me out), I gathered with the other guys in the living room to wait for the women. Carlos made coffee. (For a dude with a full sleeve of tattoos, he seems to know exactly how to use Claire’s dainty antique French press.)

  I glance up from my phone. We’re sitting on the two sofas, facing each other. Jon, Nick, and myself on one side. Carlos, Alex, and Jordan on the other. All of us, scrolling our phones and drinking coffee out of elegant antique white coffee cups with a pink and blue floral pattern. All of us, wearing tired in some form. All of us, content. Something about this configuration feels normal. Comfortable. Regular.

  Six wolves crash our tranquility.

  “Jon! It’s the first day of your new job!” Dana calls to him as she opens the front door.

  The women march in. All of them wear some form of black stretchy fabric, sneakers, and a scowl. My woman wears it best.

  “What do I need to do?” Jon asks, glancing up from his game of Bubble Pop.

  “We are doing a Mafia… mediation,” Jen explains.

  “I’m not. I gotta go. Claire, can I take the leftover chicken and cupcakes for my road trip?” Brit asks.

  “What road trip, Brittney?”

  Alex’s voice is so stern the room goes still.

  “You let him call you Brittney?!” Lynn yells.

  “You don’t let your mother call you Brittney,” Claire exclaims.

  “You don’t need to execute the steps of the scientific method to figure out this is not friendship,” Lilly mumbles.

  Brit picks up a rare Louis Vuitton Cherry Keepall Travel Bag and moves toward the door.

  “One storyline at a time. I’ll skip the delectable chicken and cupcakes. I’ll text the chain once I know what’s up.”

  “And how will you text them? Do you know where your phone is?” Alex asks.

  “Ah, it’s probably in here somewhere,” Brit says, searching her gigantic purse.

  After a few seconds, she glances up at Alex. Walking over to him, she extends her palm. Alex deposits her phone but doesn’t release her hand.

  “Check the oil in your car. Remember to submit your dissertation before you leave town. Always do a phone, keys, and wallet check before you shut the door. Text me if there’s a problem,” Alex says.

  Concern, frustration, and longing underscore his words. Brit shakes her hand free.

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks. Bye, everyone. And P.S., no men at the next sleepover,” she mumbles, exiting the door.

  “I’ll head out, too. Jordan, do you want a ride?” Alex asks.

  These women are wolves.

  Jordan, my always cool and confident business partner seems… nervous.

  “Ah Dana, since you live on the Westside too…ah… I thought I could ride with you. Ah… Brunch? My treat. I know a spot with the best beignets,” he suggests with a lopsided smile.

  Dana glares at him like he kicked a puppy.

  “I don’t eat gluten on Saturday! I can’t leave yet. We need to resolve the situation between Lilly, Michael, and Lynn.”

  “What situation?!” I ask, staring at Lilly.

  “Good luck with that, dude. I’ll roll with you, Alex,” Jordan says, both men leaving.

  Carlos stands.

  “I’m going to head out, too. Jon, you good getting back to Pasadena?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Jen has her car here. Thanks for driving last night, man.”

  “No prob. Thank you for your hospitality, Claire.”

  He tries to hug her, but her death stare causes him to recoil and exit.

  “What situation?” Nick questions, his eyes darting from me to Lilly to Lynn.

  CHAPTER 23:

  LILLY SHEPARD

  After Dana and Jon have a sidebar conversation, Mafia mediation begins. They stand between the two sofas. Lynn, Jen, Claire, and myself are on one sofa and Nick and Michael on the other.

  “What’s going on?” Michael asks me in Farsi.

  Staring at him, I don’t respond with words. My eyes say: “Please don’t break my heart, Michael. This will destroy me.”

  Jon tries to get Michael’s attention, “In English, man. And only talk to me, so these women don’t distract you.”

  “Jon, just ask him!” Dana hollers.

  “Hey! I gotta do this my way,” he asserts.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a bit hangry. Proceed,” Dana says, patting his shoulder.

  “Alright, Michael. Lynn seems to think you still like her and Lilly should be cautious about some agreement you two
made,” Jon explains.

  Michael glares at me as if no one else is in the room.

  “Lynn and I are friends. I hope you know that by now.”

  “I did… or I do. I don’t know. Lynn said you told her she was the one for you. Did you tell her that? Is she who you really want?”

  “What? When?” Michael asks.

  “The day Lynn got lost,” Jen says.

  “I didn’t get lost!” Lynn yells.

  “Yes, love. You did,” Nick says, low and firm.

  “Only a little bit. My brain doesn’t always connect the dots.”

  Lynn fidgets with the diamond in her ear.

  “But your brain remembers Michael saying you are the one?” I ask her.

  “Yes, when I got back to the house. Everyone was leaving, and Michael whispered I’d always be the one for him and if I needed anything to call him,” Lynn clarifies.

  “That would have been after date #1. You told me over text message you helped search for her. Is that why? Because you have feelings for her?”

  My question comes out more emotional than I’d prefer.

  Lynn doesn’t let him answer. “Honestly Michael, I know you really care for Lilly. But I also know two weeks ago you cared for me. I don’t want my brilliant friend to give up her goals and dreams until she’s absolutely certain this is not a phase for you.”

  “Is Lynn right, Michael? Am I just a phase?”

  CHAPTER 24:

  MICHEAL AHMED

  I run my fingers through my slept-on hair. I need a shower. I need breakfast. I don’t need to be dealing with this shit.

  How many ways can I prove to Lilly my feelings for her are real? I slept in a tent last night. I gave her my house. I bought her a car. I paid off her student loans. I’ve sent her gifts. I let her win at most games, or at least I don’t try too hard to win… except for last night. I text her so many times in a day, I’m starting to question my sanity. I’ve memorized and studied her body so I can bring her the highest level of pleasure (mixed with a little pain… for fun). I’ve shared every feeling I have for her. I even bought a promise ring to celebrate our deal, which I plan to give to her tonight. I’ve held nothing back.

  And still, after an hour-long hike with her pack, she questions my intentions?

  “I can’t…” I start to say.

  Nick cuts me off.

  “Lynn and Lilly… I guess this applies to all of you girls… you do way too much critical thinking. You’re analyzing shit for no reason. The answer is right in front of you. Do you really think Michael and I would be friends if he had feelings for you, Lynn? If he thought you were the one, do you really think he would have helped me meet your arduous demands in every way he was able?

  “Lilly, I don’t know anything about your agreement with Michael, but I do know he did not get to where he is by making bullshit deals. Like me, he is meticulously aware of all the details.

  “Yesterday, he slashed the budget for our project down to the very last penny. And not because he was being cheap or difficult. He just wanted us to do the best work possible. Not only for his gain, but for my company as well. Why wouldn’t he use the same thoughtfulness in his relationship?

  “Life doesn’t create billionaires, ladies. A brilliant mind creates a billion dollars. Lynn, you said last week, Lilly is as intelligent as Michael is wealthy. They are two brilliant minds who found each other. If at one point he thought you were the one, he found Lilly to be the better one for him. He sees in her the same strangely amazing thing I see in you.

  “Jon is right. You are all wolves. And we don’t want to tame you, we want the honor of running with you.”

  Mic drop. Nick’s big hand brings the dainty coffee cup to his lips.

  The energy in the room shifts. One by one, each woman un-bares her fangs, and softens.

  “I love you, Nick. Please know I will eventually say yes,” Lynn says, quietly.

  “I’m aware, love. Let’s go. I’ll cook brunch and you can be dirty flirty.”

  Lynn’s face lights up like a menorah on the last day of Hanukah as she gets up to collect her things. “I’m so sorry, Lilly and Michael. Let’s double date the next time you are in the City.”

  “I need to hire a matchmaker,” Dana announces before retrieving her bag from the guest room.

  “Forgive my manners, please see yourselves out. I need to make a call. Thank you for coming out to Claremont. All of you,” Claire disappears down the hallway.

  “Jon, let’s go home. I’ll order food. We can get in bed and watch the golf channel.”

  “Will you wear the thing and turn off your phone?” Jon asks, picking up his wife’s bag.

  “Of course, baby.”

  Everyone files out, leaving me and Lilly alone in Claire’s floral living room, the faint scent of country apple potpourri in the air.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you, Michael.”

  Remorse covers her face.

  “I know, babe. Ready for your first freeway driving lesson?” I ask, grinning.

  CHAPTER 25:

  LILLY SHEPARD

  “You wore this dress better than Gwyneth Paltrow, babe.”

  “I’m still amazed you knew she wore this same dress to an event.”

  “Because I was at the event,” Michael speaks with his casual self-assuredness.

  His fingers stroke and tease the skin of my inner thigh. He loves what he loves, and his hand and my cunt are a smitten couple. His touch is more affectionate than sexual. But Michael and I tend to blend sensuality, smuttiness, sentiment, and a dash of silliness to create the solid bond between us.

  Stuck in freeway traffic, we are on our way home in the back of a black Mercedes stretched limousine. I scroll my phone as Michael continues to edge my short black tulle dress with layered pleated sleeves and multicolor sequins further up my legs.

  He was right. I needed to be in Gucci tonight. Designer clothes are a standard in Tehrangeles.

  The over-the-top party was held at a private residence in Bel Air— a celebration for Michael's cousin who recently made partner at his law firm (the same attorney I met yesterday). Everyone at the party was styled-up, made-up, and on-trend, with gleamingly white teeth and dripping in gold jewelry.

  The party— a dizzying affair filled with loud, part Farsi, part English conversations. The home— a labyrinth-like structure filled with the scent of expensive cologne and perfume and large vases of Casablanca lilies. EDM and Iranian pop music flowed through the rooms, surrounded by lots and lots of gold decor, platters of Persian food, and imported champagne. Every detail gracefully walked the line between sophisticated and garish.

  At the party, I met Michael's parents, sister, brother, and their respective spouses. The baby of the family, Michael is the only one born in the US. Initially, his people seemed cold and aloof. Once everyone had a drink in their hand, and they realized I wasn’t a “gold digging, too-skinny bimbo” (and I could understand enough Farsi to know what they were saying), everyone turned warm, boisterous, and talkative. Each member of his family, elegantly dressed and humorous, radiated the same privilege and affluence as Michael.

  He never left my side, his arm always around my waist. Michael graciously included me in every conversation. He spoke highly of my professional accomplishments. My man really did watch those videos with the sound on, and to my surprise read some of my published research articles. He also vehemently praised my bowling talents (bowling is a big deal in the Ahmed family).

  Typically, I use my intelligence or quirky interests to gain acceptance, but tonight all I needed was a very expensive dress, my handsome, doting boyfriend dressed in a black Armani suit, and a yellow gold ring with a massive opal encrusted in diamonds on my finger.

  Earlier today, after my freeway driving lesson (Michael was a patient and informative teacher), lunch at Urth Caffé, very kinky sex, a nap, and a mani pedi (which Michael strongly encouraged); I found a typed note, written on thick white monogram stationary on my nightstand n
ext to my stack of scientific and medical journals:

  My Goddess Lilly,

  This ring is my promise to honor our agreement. I’m deeply devoted to your mind, body, and heart. Always.

  Love,

  Michael

  All and all, a beautiful day in Tehrangeles. A beautiful day of bonding with my man.

  Scrolling through my inbox, my coral-colored fingernails make me feel feminine and more well put together than usual. An email with the subject line: “#GoddessLilly I Need You” catches my attention. I click the message, explaining its content to Michael as I skim it.

  “Oh wow! My friend from MIT saw my pics on Instagram. I’m shocked my hashtag made it all the way to Boston. Anyway, she’s asking if I can cover her IAP in January on the Physics of Bowling. She was scheduled to lead seven different workshops over a three-week period, but she’s pregnant and her doctor just put her on bedrest, so she can’t attend. I won’t get paid, but they will put me up in faculty housing and cover my meals and travel expenses.”

  “What is IAP?” Michael asks.

  His hand is holding steady at the edge of my panties, but now he’s added feathery soft kisses up and down my neck into the mix. His affection arouses all my senses. If I weren’t so excited about this email, I would “go all Goddess Lilly” on him, straddling his lap and riding his cock until we both see stars.

  “Over the month of January, MIT lets students and faculty design programs, courses and activities on subjects not traditionally covered during the academic year. It’s geeky heaven where quirky interests and curiosities are shared… celebrated… explored. It’s the reason I decided to go to MIT. I haven’t participated since I graduated. I want to do it. You could go too. It will be fun,” I explain.

  “Sounds like a strange kind of fun, babe. I told my mom we would announce our engagement in December. The two of you will be planning our wedding in January.”