Losing His Shirt

by Linda Fausnet

  The lights dimmed, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to play on my phone after all, because the glow would be too damned obvious. I took a deep breath and resolved to do my best not to nod off during the show.

  The show started with the main girl, Millie, leaving Kansas to start a new life in New York City. The girl had long dark hair and she was wearing a long dress, as the show was set in 1922. I was pleased to see that Millie had a rockin’ body, so at least that held my interest a bit. I found myself wishing her outfit was a bit tighter though, so I could see the goods. I had to admit, the girl playing her was cute and funny, and she had pretty good comedic timing. I opened the program to see exactly how many songs I was going to have to sit through when something caught my eye.

  Millie Dillmount - Rosemary Sutton.

  No fucking way. That was Rosemary up there? I scrutinized the dark-haired lead of the play. It was Rosemary! She was wearing a wig to play Millie; I didn’t recognize her without her dark red hair. I couldn’t believe I didn’t at least recognize her voice. Those eyes, though. I took a closer look and saw those green eyes. It was definitely Rosemary. Wow, she had the lead. Good for her. Who knew she had talent?

  If I was surprised to see her act in the lead role, I was stunned when she started to sing. Stunned.

  Rosemary was incredible. I was utterly mesmerized as I watched her perform and listened to her sing. Rosemary had such a beautiful voice, and she had an amazing stage presence. She was full of passion and life, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. People applauded like crazy when she finished her song, and I felt like giving her a standing ovation. I mean, damn, she was great!

  Rosemary’s character, Millie, cut her long hair and put on a shiny, flapper dress. A tight, shiny flapper dress. Rosemary had a terrific body. That much I knew already, and I was greatly enjoying the view of her in that sexy dress. Damn, that woman was all curves. My cock tightened, an uncomfortable reminder of how long it had been since I had gotten laid. It sucked being poor.

  Rosemary wasn’t just a terrific singer, she was sexy and funny. I had no idea how she did it, but she made even getting mugged hilarious. The entire audience, including me, erupted in laughter. Millie then met some guy named Jimmy who was unbelievably hot. He was obviously going to be Millie’s love interest. I narrowed my eyes at the tall drink of water with dark, brown eyes and a great build. I hated him already. At one point, Millie yelled at Jimmy defiantly, which made me smile.

  I knew that fiery look of hers. She looked at me the same way when she told me off at the office. It didn’t seem quite so sexy at the time, but now it was incredibly hot. I thought about all those lame-ass, boring girls I usually brought home with me. As long as I was doling out the cash, those girls just did whatever I said. Not Rosemary, that fiery redhead. She was the only girl who refused to take my shit. I was so turned on watching Rosemary perform, that I started fantasizing about having sex with her right there on the stage. God, that would be hot …

  I forced myself to focus on the show. I actually laughed out loud at the next song. It was called “How the Other Half Live,” and it was sung by some old rich lady who wanted to know what it would be like to be poor for a while.

  Bitch, you have no idea.

  When it was Jimmy’s turn to sing, I was annoyed to find that the guy who played him was not only hot, but a talented singer. He had an incredible stage presence and great chemistry with Rosemary. They seemed so natural together as a couple, that it made me wonder if he was actually Rosemary’s boyfriend. The next song Jimmy performed was called “What Do I Need With Love?” He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t falling for Millie.

  I knew exactly how he was feeling.

  Later on in the show, Jimmy grabbed Millie and kissed her. My heart sank as I watched Rosemary and another man kissing passionately onstage. I wondered what her lips would feel like; warm and soft, I imagined. That damned onstage kiss seemed to go on forever. I had to fight the urge to run up there, tear that guy off her, and claim Rosemary as my own. I flipped through the program to find out the name of this guy I already despised. Ryan Dempsey. Oh yeah. I definitely hated him. I couldn’t help it. Jealousy flared up in me anytime he got near Rosemary onstage.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? She was my secretary, for God’s sake. Well, was my secretary.

  Millie realized she loves Jimmy, so Rosemary sang a song called “Jimmy,” all about her feelings for him. I couldn’t help but imagine her singing “Johnny” instead.

  Johnnnnnny, I might say … yesssssss.

  The whole storyline was about how Millie had to decide whether or not she should marry her wealthy boss instead of Jimmy. Millie’s friend, an older lady named Muzzy, told her she was crazy for throwing away true love for money. The lady talked about how her late husband once gave her a cheap green glass necklace and that “green glass” love is better than being rich. So Muzzy chose the poor guy, and then she found out the necklace was actually a real emerald, and the guy was secretly loaded. Millie decided that she still loves Jimmy, even though he was dirt poor.

  Could Rosemary ever fall for me even though I was now a pathetic loser with nothing? She didn’t want me when I was rich.

  In the end, Millie chose “green glass” love with Jimmy. Then it turned out he, too, was secretly rich but he pretended to be poor so he could find a girl who would love him, with or without his money.

  I’d been so spellbound by Rosemary’s performance that I was shocked how quickly the show went. By the end of it, I felt like I was in love.

  Okay, maybe not in love. But I was utterly infatuated with Rosemary Sutton. My heart raced, and I couldn’t wait to talk to her.

  The cast took their curtain call, and Rosemary received thunderous applause and a standing ovation. I stood up, proudly applauding and whistling. I was practically bursting with pride when I saw Rosemary receive a dozen red roses for her extraordinary performance as Millie.

  After the show, I milled around the crowd in a happy daze. It was strange to suddenly feel so completely different toward someone I had known for years. Rosemary was like a different person up there onstage. A person who could sing and act and make people laugh. A person I wanted to get to know better as soon as humanly possible.

  I actually gasped aloud when I finally caught sight of her, when she emerged from backstage. She still had on her Millie dress and her stage makeup but she had removed her wig. Her dark red hair tumbled down her shoulders and flowed down her back. I had never seen her look so glamorous, and it wasn’t just the fancy outfit, either. Rosemary’s lovely face was lit up with joy, and I could tell just by looking at her how much performing meant to her. Yet until now, I hadn’t had a clue about it.

  I watched, mesmerized by her beauty and star-like presence. Lots of people came up to greet her, and she graciously shook hands and smiled warmly at everyone. A dad approached her with two little girls in tow. The girls were maybe four and six years old. They looked shy, but they clearly wanted to meet Rosemary. They both gazed up at her like she was a fairy princess. Rosemary was especially sweet with the girls, lavishing attention on them. The dad gently nudged his daughters, who then shyly offered up their programs for Rosemary to autograph for them. My heart swelled as I watched Rosemary take her time to write a special note for each girl.

  “Hey, I’ve got something for you guys. Come with me a minute!” Rosemary said to the girls, then glanced at their dad who nodded. The three fans followed Rosemary to the front of the stage where she picked up her bouquet of roses. She took out two flowers and handed one to each little girl. I gazed admiringly at Rosemary as she showed them the thorns and instructed them to hold the stems carefully so they wouldn’t hurt their little fingers.

  “Aw, thank you so much! What do we say, girls?” The dad said, looking overjoyed with the special attention his daughters received from Rosemary. Those sweet little girls thanked her, then skipped away, excitedly admiring their roses.

  I suddenly realized there wa
s no way I could approach Rosemary now. What was my plan to woo her, exactly? Come crawling to her on my hands and knees, begging her to help me with my financial mess? I knew I had to get back on my feet before I could even try to approach her. Trouble was, I had absolutely no idea where to start. I had no money, no job, no prospects. Nothing but an eviction notice and a stack of unpaid bills.

  I glanced back over at Rosemary. I’d never seen a lovelier vision in my life than that woman. She was beautiful, full of color and passion and life. I had had this lovely, talented, red-haired goddess working for me for three years, and I never gave her a second thought because she was just “the help.” As much as I wanted to stay and bask in her shining light, I knew I had to get out of there before she saw me.

  I walked out of the theater, feeling more lost and alone than ever.

  Chapter 8

  I woke up the next morning determined to get my life back together. I got out of bed and made the coffee, which was a small yet important victory. It had taken me a while to get the hang of it. I kept making it too strong or too weak, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it to taste as good as it did when Mindy or Rosemary made it. Still, I made it myself and I was getting better at it. I felt so low and pathetic that I needed to grab hold of any win I could get.

  I settled down with my cup of coffee and started to search the Internet for work. It was hard to find any kind of job that I was even remotely interested in. Between my wealthy friends and my father’s business connections, I knew I could find a job easily from them, but I couldn’t bring myself to go that route. Working for them would be too humiliating. I needed to get a job where nobody knew me, which was no easy feat when your name was constantly in the papers.

  While I tried to concentrate on my job search, my thoughts kept drifting back to Rosemary. I thought back on all the times she was right there in the office, right under my nose, and I never paid her the slightest bit of attention unless I wanted something from her. I thought about how brightly she shone last night, both in her performance and in the way she treated people. I kept picturing her sweet smile when she was with those adorable little girls. How kind she was—to everyone. At work, she kept a stash of chocolates for the delivery guys. Now that I actually had to pay for my own food, I knew how expensive bags of chocolates were. I felt awful when I remembered how I took candy from the stash Rosemary paid for. When I pictured her the way she was onstage, beautiful and vibrant, and more talented than anyone I had ever known, shame welled up in me for demanding that she get my coffee. Christ, she was so much better than that.

  Focus on the job search, Johnny.

  Everything I found was so beneath me. My last job had been CEO of my own company, and now I was supposed to go work for somebody else? I searched business jobs and found lots of supervisory stuff, but all the positions required experience in a given field. Like, there was a job to supervise construction workers, but it required all kinds of experience in the construction field. My company sold luxury car accessories. There wasn’t much call for that in the job listings.

  After spending two hours online and finding nothing that looked even remotely doable, I was so depressed that I just wanted give up. I’d signed up to go to a job fair tomorrow, so that was enough for now. I was irritable, hungry, and horny. It had been too damned long since I’d had sex. It was about time I brought somebody back to my place for a little action. I still had my penthouse. For now, anyway. Yeah, it was kind of a mess since Mindy was gone, and I wasn’t exactly the domestic type, but it was still a cool apartment. I’d spray some of my L’eau Serge Lutens cologne around the joint, and it would be fine. That shit smelled expensive and drove women crazy. As long as I went to a new bar, I’d be able to grab a girl who wouldn’t recognize me. After all, not everybody followed the gossip columns, so some people wouldn’t know my situation. I was still a good-looking guy: they couldn’t take that away from me. That should be enough to get a girl to wrap her legs around me for the night.

  I took the stupid, stinky Metro into the main part of D.C. and walked around until I found a local place that didn’t look too terribly seedy. I sat at the bar and ordered an appetizer. I was starving but on a budget. I ordered a more expensive microbrew because I couldn’t stand the piss-water that is American beer, and I needed to appear a little less pathetic than I really was. I glanced around the bar and saw a few girls who might be good for a quick and dirty fuck. I waited for them to notice me, but none of them did. I told myself that they just hadn’t seen the hot guy sitting at the bar yet.

  It was hard to keep lying to myself when several of the women glanced my way and then turned back to their girl group. That stung. I was used to women approaching me, not the other way around.

  My bacon-cheese fries arrived, and I ate without really tasting them. I looked back at the group of women in the bar, and my poor neglected cock stiffened painfully in my jeans. I let out a heavy sigh. What was I thinking when I came here? What was my game plan? Grab a girl and take her on the Metro back to my place? What girl in her right mind would believe that I had a penthouse apartment when I didn’t even own a car? I could lie and say it was in the shop, but then maybe she’d want to take a cab back to my place. Fuck, even a cab was out of my price range.

  The truth suddenly slammed into me so hard that it literally took my breath away for a moment.

  Take away all that money, and what’s left of you, Johnny Creel? Nothing.

  I felt utterly heartsick thinking of Rosemary and the truth behind her words.

  All those girls I’d fucked in the past didn’t give a shit about the real me. They wanted the free booze, the cash, the car, and the name. The last girl I’d banged had said, I can’t wait to tell my friends I got fucked by Johnny Creel. All that nameless girl knew about me was that I was rich and famous. She didn’t know the real Johnny Creel.

  As it turned out, neither did I. Who the hell was I without money?

  There was nothing left of me without Daddy’s money. It was like my entire identity had been erased. Rosemary was right.

  Rosemary.

  Lovely Rosemary. Rosemary, the executive assistant who worked full time just to keep food on the table, yet somehow still found the time to be in a play. I thought about how beautiful she looked on the night of her performance, and how strong she was when she stood up to me and quit her job. A job she really needed. Fear suddenly gripped my heart when I thought about what might have happened after she quit. Had she gotten a new job? Or did she have an eviction notice on her apartment door, too? She looked okay the night of her play. I hoped to God she had gotten a new job, and had somehow landed on her feet.

  I scanned the bar and realized I had lost my desire to be with any of the women there. The only woman I wanted was far out of reach. I thought of Rosemary’s long red hair, sparkling green eyes, and those gorgeous boobs of hers spilling out of her blouse. I groaned as my cock went rock hard. It felt like it could burst out of my jeans at any moment.

  “You okay buddy?” the bartender asked.

  “Yep, fine. I’m ready for the check.”

  “You got it.” He went to the register to finalize my bill. I paid up, then left the bar, alone, feeling defeated and pathetic.

  As soon as I entered my apartment, I caught a whiff of the cologne I’d sprayed all over. It was a depressing reminder of how the evening had not gone exactly as planned. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and stripped off my clothes. I sighed heavily as I looked at the bottle of lotion and the box of tissues on my nightstand. That was the extent of my love life lately.

  I lay down in bed and closed my eyes. I figured if I just got myself off while fantasizing about Rosemary, I’d be able to forget about her and move on. She hated me anyway, judging by the way she yelled at me. It was weird how her fury was actually a turn-on. She was a passionate, fiery redhead, that was for sure. I wondered if she was a natural redhead, and I imagined how much I would have loved to find out for myself.

  I groaned
as my cock stiffened. I pumped some lotion on my hands and began to stroke myself, imagining the wetness was evidence of Rosemary’s arousal for me. In my fantasy, I was still her boss and she was my executive assistant. I imagined fucking her at her desk at work. I rubbed my cock faster as I thought about how Rosemary would look as I fucked in her in her office chair, her legs splayed out on the desk. I imagined hearing her beautiful voice moaning my name.

  Johnny, Johnny, oh God … Oh yes … Johnny …

  I wondered what Rosemary looked like when she was having an orgasm. I pictured her throwing her head back, eyes closed, her long hair flowing down her back, crying out my name as I made her come. Thinking about it was almost enough to make me blow my wad, but the next image I conjured was what pushed me over the edge.

  I pictured Rosemary on her knees before me, taking my cock in her mouth. Those sultry green eyes full of pride and power, knowing she had complete control over my pleasure.

  I groaned out loud as I came hard into my own hand. Sure, it was a little depressing, but I felt much better. It seemed all I did was jerk off lately, but it was infinitely more satisfying when I thought of Rosemary while I did it. I let out a deep breath, feeling relaxed and tired. I was sure I would fall asleep easily.

  I was wrong.

  I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking of her. Pleasuring myself to the thought of my former secretary did nothing to quell my longing for her. Though it was kind of sexy the way she told me off when she quit, I couldn’t help but remember the hurt and anger in her eyes. When she left, I tried to tell myself that she was just having a bad day, or maybe she was on her period or something. Looking back, I realized that she’d been upset for a long time, but she’d suppressed her feelings because she needed that job. I shuddered to think of the way I had treated her. No wonder she had finally had enough. The crazy thing was, when she snapped, she wasn’t even yelling at me because of the way I treated her. She was upset because I was giving that Cory kid a hard time.