by Anya Sharpe
To lighten the mood, I roll out stories from my college days—the ones I’m able to tell in mixed company, anyway—and toss in some juicy Lovell MacKenzie gossip from the human grapevine named Edith.
Maya laughs and Erynne grins. I manage to extract a giggle or three out of her, but her heart’s not in it. We’re just a distraction. The overwhelming sadness in her eyes guts me. Dammit. How can the bastard do this to her?
The waiter brings the dinner menus, and I lean into Erynne to point out a few good choices, when something catches my attention at the entrance of the restaurant.
I’ll be damned. The guy in the lobby is a dead-ringer for Derrick. Nah, can’t be. He’s joined by the redhead Lance was checking out a while back. The same guy, I note, as he pulls her in for one helluva hot kiss, considering they’re in public.
Crash!
My gaze shifts to Erynne who is whiter than a bleached sheet. Her mouth gapes open, eyes wide and shiny. The goblet she was holding is now a giant mess of broken glass and wine on the floor. She hasn’t moved a muscle. Seconds later, a small, horrible sound escapes her.
Her body slips out of the chair as if she has no control over her limbs. I leap up to steady her, but she’s staring into space. The whole scenario clicks into place.
That was her fucking husband.
“Oh. My. Hell.” I’m propping Erynne up, but in the background Maya who, at a quick glance, is almost as white as her friend, is rattling off a litany of expletives.
The firm grip I have on Erynne, prevents her from ending up on the floor. How the hell I am going to handle this situation—two freaked out women—by myself? A little help here, please? My silent prayer is answered when the heavens open, the angels sing and St. Lance strolls into the bar. I’ve never been more relieved and glad to see my friend.
“Lance!” I hiss, as he approaches taking in the scene unfolding. Lance’s confusion at the awkward situation in front of him would be amusing at any other time. Now, I just need his assistance.
“What the hell’s going on, Ev?”
Still holding Erynne—who hasn’t blinked once in the past few moments—I blurt out some instructions. “Ask the waiter to hail us a taxi. Tell him it’s an emergency. Then, come help me. Pay my bill too, would ya?”
His gaze bounces between me and a stock-still Erynne, over to Maya, who’s not doing much better. He assesses the scene and springs into action.
A few minutes later, we’re loading the women into a cab.
“Where to, mister?”
Shit…I don’t care, anywhere but Malone’s. Erynne’s barely holding together. If the woman shakes any harder, she’s going to rattle the teeth right out of her mouth. Maya is clutching her arm, but neither of them has spoken.
“Uh…” I blurt out my address for lack of a better destination. We can’t drive around the city all night, so my place it is.
****
“What happened, Ev?”
In the kitchen, I pour glasses of water and fill Lance in on the disaster, including how we ended up at Malone’s in the first place. He stares at me like I’m out of my goddamned mind. Maybe I am. Somebody sure as hell is.
“You’re serious.” He’s not asking a question. “You’re damned serious, aren’t you? On their fucking anniversary? Are you positive it was him?”
“Not only am I, but Erynne was sure as hell certain.”
“Erynne, sweetheart, drink some water, please.” I keep my voice as gentle as possible, and hand her the glass, making sure she’s got a good hold on it before letting go. I’ve got to snap her out of this trance so we can figure out what to do, because I have no damned clue. All I knew was I needed to get her out of the restaurant. Fast.
Erynne takes the slowest, smallest sip I’ve ever seen a human take. I doubt she swallowed even a teaspoon of water. She blinks hard two or three times, then turns to me with an empty expression.
“Why did he do this to me?” The words come out in harsh gasps, more like hiccups, followed by another microscopic sip. “I…I don’t understand.”
You and me both, babe.
“Erynne, talk to me.” It seems like a good idea to keep her talking.
Finally, Maya gets a grip and realizes she needs to help.
“Hey, Erynne. C’mere.” She engulfs her best friend in a big hug. Why didn’t I think of that? It was the undoing. Sobs, like I’ve never before heard a woman emit, are let loose. Her grief shakes my soul and twists my gut into ten-thousand sailor knots. I’m embarrassed to be a member of the male species. I may not survive this night, so I sure as hell can’t imagine how Erynne will. There is nothing I can do to make this anywhere close to all right. I’m as useless as a wet rag.
If I never witness a scene like this again in my whole life, I will be very grateful. I want to kill the bastard. I’ll start by cutting off his damned balls and stuffing them down his slimy throat. I’d bet Lance is thinking pretty much the same thing.
My hand moves of its own accord to Erynne’s back, stroking lightly over her heaving, shaking body. I fear she’s going to fall apart into a million tiny shards, like the glass we left crushed on the bar floor.
Now what?
****
Once Maya composes herself enough to talk to Lance and me, the three of us weigh our options. We scrounge half of a sleeping pill from the medicine cabinet, and urge Erynne take it. She lay curled up like a lost kitten on the sofa, covered with the afghan my grandmother made me years ago. I think she fell asleep. Thankfully.
“Do you have a car?” Maya asks me.
“Yes. Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s take her to my place. It’s close to hers, but I can’t let her go home.”
“No. Your apartment is a good idea. I’ll get the keys.” Damned straight she isn’t going there. The thought of that asshole coming home and trying to cozy his cheating ass up to her in bed makes my blood boil as I draw my hands up into tight, clenched fists.
“Hey, relax, man.” Lance points to the fists.
“I’m not sure I can. Not when I want to pound him into the pavement.”
“Yeah, I get it, but now’s not the time.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I gather Erynne into my arms, and we head out.
Twenty minutes later, I carry a dozing Erynne through Maya’s apartment door, into her bedroom.
“Help me out here, Evan,” she says.
I sit Erynne up, while Maya undoes her zipper. Then, I remove her shoes and position her so Maya can slide the dress off.
“You’re closing your eyes?” she asks me, laughing.
“I don’t think Erynne would appreciate knowing I’ve seen her nearly naked, Maya.” As I speak my eyes involuntarily open and zoom right to Erynne’s chest. “Goddammit.” I slam them closed again, but now the sight of her fucking gorgeous breasts in the sexiest black bra known to man is burned into my retinas. Not helping.
We maneuver her under the covers, and I slink out of the bedroom swearing at myself for being a creep.
Lance holds out a ringing cell phone. One glance tells me not only that it’s past midnight, but The Asshole is calling her. Snatching the phone, I toss it to Maya. No way I’m answering this call. Although it would serve the jackass right to have another man answer. I grin at the idea.
“Hello?” Maya’s voice is stiff with anger. “She fell asleep on my sofa, Derrick. She’s staying the night.”
He’s babbling something, but can’t make out the words.
“She’s pretty upset.” Understatement of the year. “That was a dick thing to do, Derrick. Don’t come over. I won’t answer the door. Goodnight.”
“It was just dinner, Maya.” He yells.
I’d be willing to bet he’s thinking he can make it up to her with some flashy bauble. I’m pretty sure that ain’t gonna be as easy as he thinks. Especially when the shit hits the fan.
After Maya hangs up, we all exchange uncomfortable looks as I fish car keys out of my pocket.
“Call me tomorrow morning.”
She nods. “Sure.”
****
I’ve been puttering around at my desk since seven a.m. Sleeping last night was a joke. That was one fucked up evening. For the tenth time in as many minutes, I glance at my phone, which stays silent. Maybe Maya and Erynne are still asleep. I sure as hell hope so. When she wakes up, she’s going to be facing…
Erynne strolls past my office door.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I leap out of the chair and scramble for the hall.
“She didn’t want to stay at my place and didn’t want to go home. I loaned her some clothes.” Maya blocks the doorway. I stare at her.
“How is she?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Bad. Derrick did more than stomp on her heart. He ripped it out and fed it to the Mountain Lion.”
“Mountain Lion?”
“Morgan Banner. His dinner-date. Erynne calls her the Mountain Lion. She’s Derrick’s partner in the damned case from hell he’s been obsessed with.” She purses her lips. “Although now I’m not so sure working on the case is all they’ve been doing together.”
“Oh.” I glance up at the ceiling, praying it will tell me what to say or do. I don’t get any answers. “So, now what?”
“Ain’t that the million-dollar question?” For the first time, I really study Maya, who is dressed for work, but looks as though she’s gotten about as much sleep as me. Meaning, none. This is gonna be one long-ass day.
Together, we move down the hall toward Erynne’s office. Inside, I hear her crying.
Jesus Christ. This woman does not deserve this. Leaning against the door, I press my palms into my aching eyes. When I reopen them, Maya is tearing up, too. I shove myself off the door, and wrap an arm around her.
“I don’t know what to do, Evan.” Her voice breaks.
“Me either.”
Erynne’s phone rings a few times. The call is on speaker, and we hear Derrick raging at her loud and clear. I’m pissed. No way I’m going to let the bastard rip her a new one. I start to go in, but Maya stills my hand and presses a finger to her lips shushing me.
“Dammit, Erynne why the hell didn’t you come home last night? I was worried sick about you.” Serves you right, asshole.
“Listen to me carefully, Derrick.” Erynne’s tone is scarily taut and ferocious for someone who was a crying mess mere minutes ago. Even I’m sweating beneath my collar, and I didn’t create this mess. I am, however, doing a mental fist-pump for her.
“Erynne…”
She cuts him off.
“I’ll be home by five o’clock. You’d better have your bags and cheating ass out of the apartment before I get there. If I see so much as a hair from your head, I’m calling the cops, and you’ll be lucky if I do, because I might lose my shit and hurt you.”
Maya and I exchange wide-eyed gasps. Chills travel down my spine, and my feet are cemented to the floor. Right now, breathing seems optional.
“What the hell are you talking about, Erynne? You’re being ridiculous and blowing this out of proportion. I get you’re mad because I canceled dinner, but…”
“Dinner? I didn’t eat dinner last night. But I sure hope you enjoyed the menu at Malone’s…and wherever else you sampled the wares.”
She slams the phone down so hard I am certain there will be a huge dent in the desk.
“You two can come in,” she calls through the door in an ice-cold, yet shaky voice. “One of you bring coffee.”
Chapter Eight
Erynne
The dark of night is beginning to fade when I awake, and blink at the ceiling. I don’t need to move a muscle to know that I feel like shit from head-to-toe. I tell myself not to recall the reason for my misery, but it doesn’t work. It’s foolishness to think I could avoid the pain.
Derrick.
Derrick kissing Morgan. In a restaurant. Not working late. On our anniversary.
Nausea rolls through my gut, and despite my vow to stay cemented to the mattress for all of eternity, I leap out of bed, barely getting to the toilet, where I spill my guts. I have no idea what was in my stomach. We never got a chance to eat dinner last night.
Still numb, but less nauseous, I decide to shower as I assess my surroundings. They brought me to Maya’s house at some point. I remember very little other than the bombshell of seeing my husband in the arms of another woman. I was in the restaurant, and now I’m here.
I’ve been staring at the shower stall for minutes on end, in a daze. I wish everything I’m slowly remembering was a bad dream, but certain it isn’t.
I set the water as hot as I can stand. If I get lucky the memory, the humiliation, the embarrassment, the anger, the sadness, the infidelity will be washed down the drain. The spray flows over my body, and I watch it swirl into the drain on the floor. Fascinating. The pale pink toenail polish is chipping. Soggy hair is plastered across my face, water dripping with plops onto the tile. Soap. I should use soap. Or shampoo.
My head weighs maybe two hundred pounds. The effort to lift my gaze to the shelf of products Maya keeps in her shower is enormous. Instead, I stare at the array of bottles lined up like pastel soldiers on the wire rack—choosing one and applying it to my body is far too large of a task this morning, so I turn off the water.
Through the steamy mirror I catch my image. Deep, dark circles surround reddened eyes. Funny. I don’t recall crying. But, if I start now, I may never stop. My stomach clenches again as I dry off and wrap the towel around myself, then take a seat on the toilet lid.
What am I going to do?
How will I get through this day?
How can I face Derrick?
Or for that matter Maya and Evan. Oh, dear God, Evan was there—a witness to my utter humiliation.
The damn bursts.
“Sweetie…” Maya murmurs from behind me as I sit, weeping uncontrollably for what seems like hours but, in reality, is only moments. Her touch calms me and I bury my head in her shoulder.
“What am I going to do, Maya?” The words come out in a strangled whisper.
Options swirl in my brain, all of them concentric circles of thought spinning, spinning until they too eventually run down the drain. None of them are a good idea.
“Ow!” Maya yanks a comb through my tangled hair.
“Sorry, Erynne.” She sets the comb down and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Should I take you home? Or would you rather stay here and take some time to…?” She can’t even finish the sentence. “You can stay with me for as long as you want.”
“I don’t know.”
One thing’s certain, going to our apartment is not an option. The risk of running into Derrick is something I’m not yet ready to face.
“The office,” I say, without consciously making that decision. “I’ll go to the office. Can I borrow some clothes, Maya?”
“Are you sure?” She wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t really want to go to work, do you?”
“Yeah. I do. There’s nowhere else I can go.”
****
I make a beeline to my office, flip on the light, close the door and sit at my desk. Work is a ridiculous plan, but, sitting in my chair is oddly comforting. The photo of Derrick and I at Shelburne Falls stares back at me, and I heave it at the wall. The frame shatters, sending shards of glass everywhere and drawing my attention to the little black dress hanging innocently on the coat hook. A promise of an evening that was broken in so many ways. The anger building inside is like a fire on a slow burn beginning to heat.
When my phone rings, I pick up automatically, snarling an unfriendly, unbusiness-like “Hello.”
“Erynne, where the hell are you?” Derrick’s voice blasts through the line.
The conversation is not pleasant.
After letting loose on my cheating husband, I slam down the phone while my whole body begins to shake. I sense the presence of Maya and Evan lurking outside my door and holler to them to come in.
May
a slinks in and looks at me with sad doe eyes. It’s as if Derrick cheated on her, too. She eases herself into a chair across from my desk, perched on the edge, gripping her hands together. I know Maya. She’s dying to tell me this is all a terrible misunderstanding, and everything will be okay.
But, of course, that’s not true. It’s far worse than not okay. My stomach churns when an image of Derrick’s arms and lips on that woman flash through my mind.
“How could he, Maya?” I shake my head back and forth. “I don’t understand why.”
The ringing of my phone catches my attention, and I stare at the display. Derrick. Again. The last thing I want to do is talk to him again, so I reject the call, hit the “silent” button and flip the device face down on my desk. There’s not much more to be said, honestly.
A cup of hot coffee is slid across my desk. Silent and somber, Evan stands uselessly at my desk, his hands thrust into his pants pockets. He’s probably running through a thousand things to say to quell the cloud of awkwardness filling the room.
Finally, he speaks. “Um, I hope you don’t mind, Erynne, but I asked security not to let Derrick up here if he comes around. I didn’t think you’d want all that…unpleasantness…” His voice trails off.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Seconds of silence hang in the air. There are no words. None at all.
I squeeze my eyes closed and take a deep breath. “I’d like to work alone for a while, please.”
Maya and Evan nod and leave the room, softly closing the door behind them.
I spend the morning pretending to work—shuffling files and papers around into various piles and rearranging them again. Then, scrolling mindlessly through documents and emails.
I’ve accomplished nothing. My mind is numb and blank. My skin prickles uncomfortably. My head is pounding. I check the clock, desperate for this eternal day to end so I can leave.
Hah. Home. It’s not a home anymore. It’s an empty box. Derrick won’t be there because I kicked him out. I couldn’t in a million years bring myself to look him in the eyes. Not now. Not yet. Ever? Ever is a long time from today, and today is long enough to endure.