His & Hers

by Francheska Fifield

  “Will everyone is staring.”

  “I don’t care. Let them. If they interrupt us to talk business fine, otherwise I plan to avoid them as much as possible.”

  “Why do you come if you don’t like anyone here?”

  I look down sighing. It’s not her or her question that annoys me so much as the fact that I am here.

  “It’s good for business. I meet people I have contracts with, meet potential clients, and if I don’t come I get the rude lecture. My parents have this thing about good breeding and manners.”

  “So you don’t like being rude? You don’t seem all that uptight normally.”

  “Because I’m not the same person here that I normally am. None of them knows a thing about me, not the real me anyway.”

  She is doing so well dancing and talking, before she hadn’t been able to do both and trying resulted in her falling or stepping on me. The first one I hadn’t minded so much.

  “Up for a spin?”

  We haven’t done many spins ,mostly because she thinks she is bad at them. She just needs practice and since we are dancing there is no time like the present. If she falls, and I hope she doesn’t because it would hurt, we can claim injury and leave. She will need more practice before our next attempt and I can catch her every time she messes up.

  “Promise not to laugh if I fall?”

  “Nope.”

  She goes in, out, and back in perfectly. I can see her doing her happy dance in her head. Since we are in public she just laughs. I see more than one gentleman looking in our direction. I don’t like it, but I can’t blame them. She is stunning.

  “We did it.”

  I smile and nod. “You’re getting better.”

  “I had a great teacher.”

  I can’t help but blush. I tried to be patient and it has been easier than I thought to enjoy the lessons. It is more fun with her. Everything is more fun with her.

  “Shall we socialize now?”

  I can tell she wants me to do so; it is, after all, why she thinks we are here. After introductions people will stare less. It is unnerving her; she’s not used to it. She is doing well at hiding it though. If I didn’t know her so well I wouldn’t know she is uncomfortable. I steer us toward my parents. I will never hear the end of it if they aren’t the first ones I greet.

  “William it’s so good to see you here.”

  My mother, always polite. It’s not her bite you have to worry about, it is her bark. She always says so much more with her tone than her words.

  “Mary, Howard, it’s good to see you to. This Is Trisha.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Trisha.”

  She’s not pleased at all. Trisha stiffens, but only a little. She is doing better than I am. Everyone can see how tense I am. I can only tell she is offended by my mother’s tone because I still have her arm.

  “The pleasure is all mine.”

  She is being more polite to them than I am and they still hate her. The lawyer has told them. Told them all the trouble I have gone through for her. Asshole. You can’t find a good lawyer in this hemisphere that hasn’t worked for them, played golf with my father, or whose wife hasn’t had tea with my mother.

  “William might we have a word alone with you.”

  I know what they want to talk about and it’s not happening.

  “Not right now. Excuse us.”

  I pull Trisha a little roughly and I feel bad but she keeps up and doesn’t fall. She doesn’t even scold me for almost tripping her.

  “Will that was rude.” She says as we make our way through the crowd.

  “And they are the one group of people I don’t care how rude I am to.”

  “Who are they?”

  How to respond? “I don’t do business with them.”

  “Will that doesn’t mean we can be rude. Come on we have to apologize.”

  If I wasn’t so shocked at her scolding me about being rude I would have laughed at her. Instead I shake my head and drag her further away. I don’t want to listen to them tell me what I know they want to say. Trisha is not appropriate. I should be with someone in my own class like Marabelle, my ex. Marabelle is a bitchy airhead and Trisha is far better than she, or people like her, will ever be. Trisha is a good person. That makes up for anything she is lacking which, as far I can tell, is just that she can be a bit too stubborn sometimes.

  “Trish don’t take this offensively, but you couldn’t pay me to go back and talk to them.”

  “Okay. Who is that coming towards us?”

  I swear I growl and tense even more. Marabelle. The only person I like less than my parents.

  “The other person I don’t care to ever see.”

  “William it’s been simply too long.”

  She grabs my hands, trying to bring one to her face while I try to pry them free.

  “Or not long enough. Depends on whose point of view you are looking from.”

  “You are as funny as ever William.”

  She has never taken anything I say seriously, thinking I am simply playing because who in the world would refuse her ‘astounding beauty,’ as she likes to put it. I feel Trisha flinch and I look down, realizing I am squeezing her arm too tight. I loosen my grip, but don’t let go. The skin to skin contact it is the only thing keeping me from running away. I would grab her hand for support if I thought she would allow it. I turn and drag her off again. I can’t take this much longer.

  “Is there a reason we are running from everyone if you are here to socialize?”

  “None of the people we have run from do business with me.”

  “So that makes it okay to be rude?”

  I haven’t ever noticed her placing so much importance on being polite. “You’re generally a polite person aren’t you? I never thought of it before. When Tommy and Steve flirted with you at first you weren’t polite.”

  “Well they were being dumb heads. They didn’t even know me and were flirting. That’s just sexist.”

  That is true, but still it’s not a side of her character I expected. She is nice so she is generally polite, but she seems to value honesty above politeness.

  “Well, I can promise you all of the people I have been rude to have done worse than flirt with me before knowing anything about me.”

  “Okay. Still, in front of other clients you should keep a calm head. You don’t want them to think you are unprofessional just because you don’t like someone. Then everyone will call you difficult to work with and you will lose a lot of business. Most deals are made behind closed doors and at gatherings such as this.”

  “I thought you came from a simple poor family.”

  She laughs and starts to shrug, but stops herself. She fits so well into any role she needs to play.

  “I do, but I’m not an idiot. I’m a history buff and I doubt our interactions now are much different than rich people throughout history. Besides, you want drama and intrigue? Try surviving high school as a girl. The girl that is your best friend ends up sleeping with your boyfriend behind your back and when you find out he cheated, she calls the girl a bitch and promises to help you hunt the whore down, and all the while making sure you don’t know it’s her. That’s way worse than business.”

  I’m not sure if she is serious, but she is animated and I have to hold back a laugh so we don’t draw more attention to ourselves.

  “See now there’s the Will we all know and love. Now that you are feeling normal again, how about we go dance some more? I could always use more practice. I want to sign us up for the contest at the end of the year.”

  “I guess we could dance a bit more. Just to put in an appearance.”

  She pats my cheek, takes my arm, and lets me lead her out onto the floor.

  “There’s a brave little soldier. Let’s go.”

  We do dance some more and it is so wonderful I try to forget where we are and focus only on her. It’s not hard. She looks radiant and she is so funny. She has me laughing and smiling and before long until
I can’t dance anymore. I excuse myself to go the men’s room and she promises to sit at the bar and wait for me.

  I swear I am only gone a few minutes, but when I open the door and step out into the hallway Trisha goes flying by me. I grab her arm and look at her. She is crying. What the hell?

  “Trisha is something wrong?”

  She slaps me and I drop her arm in shock. What the fuck happened? She runs off. I can’t fix this if I don’t know what happened. I go back into the ballroom, she can’t leave without me, I am her ride. I need to know what the hell my mother said because I know damn well it was her that said something.

  I grab my mother’s arm and pulled her to an empty corner while she scolds me for being rude and hurting her.

  “What the hell did you say to her?”

  “Nothing. We simply had a little chat.”

  “About what? Tell me now or I swear I will never come here again. Not even to these parties.”

  “We talked about her careers. A writer and your housekeeper. Astounding talents she has William.”

  If I hadn’t just told her to tell me the truth I would hit her for being a nasty bitch.

  “What else?”

  “Why do you assume there is something else?”

  “Because nothing you said about her novels could have upset her as much as she is.”

  My mother notices my cheek and smiles. Ugh she did it on purpose. She intentionally upset Trisha to cause problems. What kind of a mother is she? She doesn’t care about my happiness at all.

  She only knows our lawyer thinks I have an interest in Trisha and she wants to ruin any chance I might have at finding someone to make me happy. Someone that doesn’t bend to her rules and will.

  “I told her not to get too comfortable. You enjoy slumming it for now, but you will reach a point when you will want to come back to this life. Marabelle is ready to forgive you and accept your proposal again. I just told that girl that although you were paying her for whatever services now, it wouldn’t last. Really William, you lied to her something awful. I could tell she didn’t know we were your parents or that you and Marabelle had been engaged.”

  Oh shit. I don’t wait to hear if there is more. That would have done enough. I should have told her the truth before I brought her here. I didn’t want to ruin the night. I wanted her all to myself, dancing with her in my arms and it had been great while it lasted. Whoever said the past will bite you in the ass if you don’t deal with it was right. It didn’t bite my ass though.

  I get my car from the valet. She’s not out front, but they had seen someone matching her description walking. Damn, what if she is hurt? She could be run over by a drunken guest or abducted by a psycho. I have to find her.

  I find her just down the road from the driveway. Thank God she is safe. I have to get her into the car. Walking back will take forever; it was a forty-five minute drive here. I can’t let her walk back, no matter how mad she is. If I have to follow her home like this or call the police to cuff her and bring her home I will.

  “Trisha get in the car. It’s a long walk back and it’s dark. Please. Something could happen to you. You shouldn’t be walking. Just get in. You don’t have to talk to me and I will take us straight home I promise.”

  She hesitates, thinking about it before getting in, buckling up, and turning toward the window. I guess she really doesn’t want to talk. I will give her some time. I’ll try tomorrow. At home she goes inside and I immediately hear slamming doors. I don’t follow right away. I need a minute before I face everything. Instead, all the guys come barging out to see me. Ahhh hell.

  “Will what the hell happened? She’s in there crying.”

  I hit my head on the top of the car. Damn I am the world’s biggest fool.

  “She found out Tommy. I left her for a minute to go to the bathroom and my mom found her.”

  “Oh shit.”

  I nod and try to hold back my tears. I care about her so much. I tried to keep her apart from my past, but it caught up to me.

  “What’s going on?”

  Only some of the guys know about Tommy and I being trust fund kids. They get the hint and drag the others away before they can start asking questions.

  “Tommy she’s so mad. She tried to walk home, crying. She didn’t even grab her coat, I had to. She’s never going to talk to me again. You were right I should have told her everything already.”

  He shrugs.

  “Will I get you wanted to make sure she liked you and wanted to date you before telling her. It’s only prudent for us rich dudes if we don’t want to be stuck with a gold digger. But you at some point have to choose to trust someone. It should have been her. I tried to tell you. It wouldn’t make a difference to her if you were rich or not. She likes you for you.”

  He smiles.

  “Man I feel like a singer.”

  He laughs and shrugs when I don’t respond.

  “I was going to tell her after I asked her out. No matter what she said.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have taken her tonight.”

  “She likes dancing. She’s always talking about having an excuse to do so since we started lessons.”

  He sighs and looks toward the part of the house where her room is located.

  “She isn’t going to take this well. She’s recovered emotionally here better than I thought she would when you first mentioned her moving in and why. But something like that leaves scars Will. She’s going to hold the ‘men are dishonest’ trauma you just ripped open again against you.”

  “Do you think she will ever forgive me?”

  I look up at him. I don’t care that I am crying in front of him. Tommy sees me and looks away. That’s not a positive sign.

  “I'll try to talk to her. Maybe she will feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

  I nod. I’m not expecting much, but she has no reason to hate Tommy so maybe he can at least find out how much she hates me.

  I walk inside and go to her door. I see no light under the door and it is silent. Hopefully she will get some sleep and it will make her rational enough to be willing to talk to me tomorrow. If I never see her smile again I won’t survive it. She’d been right; the right woman can bring any man to his knees.

  Chapter Ten

  She doesn’t come out for breakfast and I won’t let anyone bother her. She emerges sometime later in her jogging outfit. Everyone waits to see if she will say anything, but she puts in her headphones and runs out the door. Great. That is a bad sign. She doesn’t run with both headphones in, says it increases your chances of getting mugged. She is mad enough to be disregarding her own safety.

  Hours go by with no Trisha. Finally, we all pull out our cells and start calling anyone we can think of that she is friendly with that we have access too. No one has heard from her. I am about to start calling the hospitals when a police car drives up. She climbs out, her arm in a sling and she looks like she has been in a bar fight. Oh God!

  “What happened? We’ve been calling everyone trying to find you for hours!” I say, worry lacing my voice.

  “I wasn’t arrested if that’s what you think! I was mugged!” She rushes past us and goes inside. I talk to the police and find out what happened. She had been mugged and somehow managed to fight off her attacker, but sustained injuries and had to be checked out at the hospital, give a statement, and file charges. Nothing is broken, but they don’t want her using her arm for a week because a muscle is bruised pretty badly.

  The others agree to stay outside so we can talk for a minute. They walk around, not really sure what to say or do. I’m not sure how it will go either. I go inside and she is in the kitchen downing a soda. Something she almost never drinks. She is sitting on a bar stool, not hidden away in her room. Maybe she wants to talk too?

  “Trisha. I just want to talk. Please?”

  She nods, but doesn’t look at me. I guess that is as good as I am going to get.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt. Last night and this morn
ing. You shouldn’t have been running out alone with headphones on. You did it because you were mad. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

  “You didn’t warn me.”

  No yelling, that is a positive sign. “I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Which part?! That we were going to a party with your parents that you don’t get along with or that your model ex was there?! An ex you failed to mention, ever!”

  “I told you about Marabelle.”

  “You told me you dated a girl in college, but it didn’t end up as anything serious! Engaged is serious Will!”

  Is that what she is mad about? That I had been engaged. It doesn’t make sense, she’s been married, but then I knew about that. I hadn’t told her the truth about Marabelle and I.

  “To you yes. My family arranged the whole thing. I had little to no say in it.”

  She squeezes the can. Wrong thing to say apparently.

  “They can’t make you marry someone! The world doesn’t work that way anymore!”

  “And as soon as I figured that out I dumped her, finished college, moved away, and started my own company. I started living life on my own terms.”

  “You still could have warned me! We all have a past Will!”

  “Yes, but you have nothing to be ashamed of with yours.”

  She flinches. What does she have to be ashamed of? I am the one that doesn’t want to admit I have a past,. I don’t acknowledge it and don’t talk about it. Opening up to her as much as I have has actually been very difficult for me. She hasn’t known me long enough to know that though.

  “That’s not true, but we aren’t talking about me. You shouldn’t be afraid to tell your friends the truth about yourself. I thought we were friends Will. Not just employee and employer.”