Undersold

by B. B. Hamel

  “Maybe she didn’t see,” I said weakly.

  He looked at me, his face a mask of torn confusion. He took a few steps away from me, toward the bank of windows. He was angry, but also shocked and upset. I realized I had broken one of his rules.

  “Of course she knew what was happening, you saw her face,” he said.

  I stood up and went to him.

  “This is my fault, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have started this.”

  He held his hands up and I stopped.

  “I let my guard down with you, Amy,” he said quietly.

  “It’s my fault. We had a rule, and I broke it,” I said.

  “Give me a second.” He walked further away from me, and I felt something shift between us. There was an edge in his voice that I wasn’t familiar with. The distance between our bodies was a few steps, but there was a chasm behind it, and getting wider with every second.

  “Shane, I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry,” was all I could say.

  He leaned his head against the glass window. For a second, I thought he had his eyes shut, but I jumped when he slammed his fist against the frame. “You idiot,” he said quietly to himself. I didn’t know who he was talking to. I stood there, legs weak, heart hammering in my chest, and I couldn’t stop the widening gorge. The icy pressure of my self-doubt flooded back as I watched him there, his body tense. He was a thousand feet away, and getting further.

  I tried to move toward him, but the look on his face made me stop short. His whole body was a vibrating tension rod of anger. It radiated from him in waves, and I realized in that moment exactly how strong his body was. Fear and excitement mingled inside of me. I knew he could tear this room apart, along with me, if he wanted to.

  “Please, Amy. Just go back to your desk. I’ll deal with Janice,” he said.

  “Okay Shane,” I said hesitating, and then moved to gather my stuff.

  Something in his face seemed to soften. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry. I shouldn’t be harsh. It’s not your fault.”

  I looked back at him, and wasn’t convinced. He tried to smile, but I could tell something was irredeemably different. His hands were clasped into fists.

  “I’ll be at my desk, if you need anything.” I gathered my things and walked out the door. Janice wasn’t at her usual spot, which was a small mercy. Behind me, I heard a hollow bang, and what I thought was another groan. I wanted so badly to go back to him, to tell him it would all be okay, but I couldn’t. My feet took me forward, back to my desk, and I floated through the day like a zombie.

  15.

  I didn’t hear from him that night, and he was out of the office the next day. I poked my head around the divider between Linda and me near midday.

  “Hey, Linda,” I said. I tried to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

  “What’s up Amy?” she said.

  “Is Mr. Green in today?” I held my breath for her response.

  She looked back and shrugged. “Nope, not today. Word is he took his vacation early, or at least that’s what I heard Janice say. Secondhand info of course, but whatever.”

  She paused, and for a second I thought she could see the shock and hurt on my face, but she just smiled. “Good for him, I say. Guy needs a break.”

  “Yeah, totally,” I said weakly, trying to smile.

  “You okay?” She had obviously noticed my weak attempts at hiding my emotions.

  “Fine, just feeling a little sick. No big deal.”

  “Let me know if you need anything. I got a pharmacy in my desk,” she said and laughed. I believed her.

  “Thanks Linda, maybe I’ll take you up on that later.” I gave her a little wave, and rolled back to my side of the divider, head spinning.

  Did he really take his vacation early? Is that the trip we were supposed to go on together, or does he just need some space? I had no idea what to do. I hadn’t heard from him yet, and the night was spent anxiously staring at my phone. I couldn’t take it anymore, not after this rumor, so I typed him a message. I didn’t care if I was being pathetic by reaching out to him first, or if I was breaking into his space. I needed to hear from him, no matter what.

  Sorry again about yesterday. Missed you last night. Sorry you’re not at work. I agonized over how lame and pathetic it seemed, but sent it anyway. It was true, and I selfishly hoped he was feeling under the weather, maybe had caught the office cold. That was better than the alternative.

  The day flew by and I kept checking my phone. No response from Shane, nothing. I was beginning to worry, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I knew he needed space and would get in contact with me when he was ready. Maybe this was a good thing, in the long run. Maybe he’d decide that his privacy issues weren’t worth losing me over. But I knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And I had nobody to talk with about it. This man was one long well of complicated mysteries.

  The next week was a blur of emotions and disappointment. Day after day, I expected Shane to appear at work, or at least to send me a message, but each day I was disappointed. Not even Linda’s weird gossip could raise my spirits. My desk started to feel like a prison, and every part of the office reminded me of him. My apartment was my only refuge, but that too had parts of him lodged in its corners: a shirt he left over, a note he wrote, a toothbrush. I wanted to burn his things, or at least throw them away, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I still held out hope that he’d come back.

  Late Friday night, missing him completely, I logged onto the paparazzi tech blogs and looked for any mention of him I could find. Back before we met, I used to read these blogs to find information about the industry I desperately wanted to be a part of. Back then, these seemed like treasure troves of ideas and information about people I wanted to meet. Now, it all seemed sick and twisted. Didn’t they realize these were regular people trying to make a living? These days, if you were rich and successful and young, people wanted to know about your life, and would pay for the details. It was hard, but I went back as far as a few weeks, and couldn’t find anything.

  Realizing I was in a bad place, and desperate for something good, I called Darcy, who was surprisingly home on a Friday night.

  “What up kiddo?” She answered on the second ring.

  “Hi Darc. What are you up to?”

  Short pause. “Oh not much. Binging on some Netflix, hitting the wine hard, living a glamorous life. How about you?”

  I didn’t know how to approach this. Should I tell her how upset I am? I couldn’t risk her asking why, and having to lie about it.

  “Any chance you can come for a visit tomorrow?”

  “Hmmm. Tomorrow? I can probably manage that. Why, desperate for some party times?”

  I laughed. Party times? “Yeah, exactly. Let’s go out, have some party times.”

  “Oh, no, don’t say that. Sounds terrible coming from you.”

  I laughed again. Darcy always made me feel better.

  “Alright Darc, I’m excited to see you.”

  “I’m excited too, you big weirdo. See you tomorrow.”

  16.

  “Oh shit, this is my jam!” Darcy yelled over the music, and started to dance to the beat, drink held up high in the air.

  It was Saturday night, and Darcy had come down from New York earlier that afternoon. I thought she knew that I was upset about something, but she didn’t mention it directly. She was pretty good about not asking, although I could tell she was intensely curious. I hadn’t heard from Shane all week, not a single word, and I couldn’t even tell her that he existed. I was broken up inside, twisted with doubt and confusion, but I had to keep it all a secret.

  I kept going over and over the past week in my head, despite the pounding bass and packed-in people. I knew he wasn’t coming into the office, but I had no idea where he was, and I couldn’t help but worry. By Thursday, I was beyond myself with doubt. Nobody seemed to know about the incident in Shane’s office, which meant Janice was being discreet. I guessed Shane talked to her, and she agreed
to keep it a secret. I wanted to tell her how much I appreciated that, but I couldn’t bring myself to even mention it. Better to pretend like she never saw me down on my knees, post-blowjob, tugging up the boss’s pants.

  “I don’t know this one,” I yelled back over the music. It was a packed night at City Barhouse, with hundreds of people shoved into the relatively small space like canned goods. Darcy was the only thing keeping me from spiraling into a serious depression at this point. Darcy, plus the gin and tonics she kept buying for me. I drank the last of number two and give her a wry smile.

  “Who cares? Dance!” She bounced around me, grabbed my hand, and spun me around.

  I wasn’t ready for it, and her spin sent me stumbling into some strange guy’s back. This was pretty typical of Darcy and me. She was graceful and fun, while I was a little plain and clumsy. That poor guy got stuck in the middle of the hurricane that is my dancing. He looked back at me, angry at first, but my sheepish smile softened him up immediately.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said loudly. He stepped closer to me. A manicured beard, thick glasses, and short hair, he was actually pretty good looking in a hipster sort of way.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Got to be careful not to lose yourself too much dancing.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, laughing.

  He moved a bit closer to me. “What’s your name?”

  “Amy. What’s yours?”

  “Greg. You look good tonight, Amy.”

  And you’re not smooth, Greg. “Uh, thanks.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “No, thanks, I should find my friend.”

  He shrugged. “Alright then. Careful dancing.”

  I laughed. What a weird thing to say. “Totally, well, sorry again.”

  He gave me a leery grin, and I knew what he was thinking. Before he could say anything else, I moved off closer to Darcy. I tried to ignore his gaze drilling into my ass, but it was hard. I remembered now why I didn’t go out to these places very often. I tried to be nice to guys like him, but they almost never took the hint. This was what I was missing; this was the single life in a big city. Each new guy I saw paled in comparison to Shane, and made me miss him even more. They all seemed like horny children, and I couldn’t imagine going home with any of them.

  “Need another drink,” I said to Darcy, nodding to the bar. I waded through the crowd, Darcy in tow.

  “He was cute,” she said to me. I had to admit that he was a little bit, but meeting some random guy at a bar was never my thing. And more than that, I still held out hope that my billionaire recluse boyfriend, my perfectly gorgeous boss, would forgive me and come back to work. Or maybe at least would remember that I existed and send me a message. I couldn’t say that to her, of course.

  “Cute enough I guess, but I’m not looking for that tonight, Darc.”

  “Yeah, sure, neither am I.” She gave me a corny wink.

  If I was going to be honest with myself, I was hurt, and I was angry. Going out with Darcy could only do so much to distract me from my problems. I couldn’t believe he would leave like that, without telling me first. It was disrespectful and careless, and the more I drank, the angrier I got. The bass from the music pounded through my head, and the packed bodies sent heat through the room. I felt myself getting worked up and sweaty, as Darcy danced around and bobbed her head, all smiles. Who did he think he was, playing with my feelings like that? Maybe I should tell Darcy and get it over with.

  I wanted desperately to tell her. Darcy had way more experience with men than I did. She even knew how to turn them down when they hit on her with grace and poise, which was never something I learned. My strategy was always to run away, which I guess worked well enough. Still, she would know what I should do. I knew that if I told her, she would keep it a secret, and would probably have good advice for me. I was feeling drunk and bold and hot.

  But what if I told her, and Shane still wanted to be with me? I wasn’t sure I wanted that anymore, honestly. He was a jerk. A big, beautiful jerk, who got my sense of humor, my drive, and my passion better than anyone else in my life. Not to mention he made me come harder than I thought possible.

  I ordered another drink, and looked around. Men were everywhere, but every single one was like a shadow of the man I actually wanted. How was I even entertaining the possibility of not seeing him again? I knew I shouldn’t be comparing, because it wasn’t fair to anyone, but how could I go back to normal people when I’d been with someone like him? I felt like he had spoiled me with his huge, thick cock and his confidence. He had showed me what it could be like, to be with someone like him, and I couldn’t imagine anything less anymore.

  I realized I was a mess. Part of me wanted to take some strange dude home just to make Shane jealous, part of me wanted to tell Darcy every little detail, and part of me wanted to go home and cry.

  But the truth was, I knew I wasn’t going to do any of that. I knew I was going to grit my teeth, drink my drinks, maybe dance a bit, and try to have fun. I couldn’t violate Shane’s trust, and I couldn’t sleep with anyone else. I was his, as much as I didn’t want to be right then.

  Mind firmly made up, I spent the next two hours dancing with Darcy. A few guys hit on us, but she picked up that I wasn’t interested in anyone right now, and smoothly got rid of them. Despite myself, I was having fun, and Shane Green slipped into the back of my mind, instead of being in the constant spotlight. The sticky flood of watery drinks, strangers sweating, and cheap wood benches became the center of my world, as Darcy and I worked to forget whatever troubles we were having. The drinks continued to flow, and the room grew fuzzier but better, and I felt my self-doubt and fear recede.

  Around midnight, my phone vibrated. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Shane’s name on the ID.

  Amy, I’m sorry I disappeared. I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m conflicted. I feel like I’ve given away parts of myself I promised I never would. But I gave them to you, I took the risk of opening myself, and after thinking about you constantly, I can’t let it go. I feel like every nerve of my body is firing when I think about your face and your lips and your hair. I know I’ve been an asshole. I want to talk to you.

  I think I stared at his message for ten minutes, uncomprehending. It was a combination of alcohol and shock that kept me from responding right away. Eventually, Darcy dragged me outside.

  “What’s going on, Amy? You keep staring at your phone.” The line to the bar was thinning out, but drunken groups of people stood around smoking or walking in every direction. Somewhere in this city, the man I wanted more than anyone else was waiting for my response, and I had no idea what that response would be.

  “I got a message. Something I didn’t expect,” I said, trying to be vague.

  “What’s it say?” She went to grab my phone.

  Normally, I would have let her see it. She would be the perfect person to bounce my ideas off of, but I knew I couldn’t do that, not at this point. I pulled it away as fast as I could and shoved it into my bag. Her expression was pure surprise.

  “Amy, what’s going on? You’ve been so weird lately. You’re obviously hiding something from me.” I knew she was right, but how could I explain?

  “I know Darc, I’m so sorry. Look, I promise I’ll tell you what this is all about eventually. I just need to get home and process this right now, okay?”

  She was quiet for a second. “That’s fine. But if you’re going to be all weird and mysterious and make me go home early, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

  I laughed. Normally we’d share the bed, but if that was my punishment, then so be it.

  “Alright, fine. Bed to yourself tonight.”

  She grinned big. “Deal. Now let’s get a cab back to your shitty apartment.”

  17.

  I miss you.

  That was all I could think to send back. Darcy snored in my bedroom, and I laid out on my tiny couch in sweats, wrapped in an old blanket. My stomach was in kn
ots waiting for his reply.

  I miss you too. Can we meet tomorrow?

  I wanted to, I was positive about that at least. I was angry, I was hurt, but I also wanted to know why he had disappeared. I needed to know if it was my fault, and if he could forgive me for breaking his rules.

  Yes, we can. I want to see you. I really want to see you.

  I’ll send a car for you in the morning. Does 10 work?

  Let’s make it later, around 2, if that’s OK. My friend is here visiting and we have breakfast plans.

  I’ll see you then.

  I scrolled through my pictures and pulled up the first one he sent me. It felt like forever ago, when he was still the mysterious stranger I met online. I looked at the clean lines of his form, the way his body flowed perfectly into itself, and I couldn’t help but remember him deep inside of me, whispering into my ear.

  I fell asleep with my phone in hand, dreaming of what he’d say.

  The next morning, Darcy and I went out to brunch at a local place called Honey’s. The food was always good, but it was packed. We didn’t talk much; Darcy was hungover, and I was brooding about my date with Shane.

  “So any more info on your mysterious freakout last night?” Darcy asked through a mouth full of French toast.

  “It was not a freakout.” I stabbed at my pancakes.

  “It was totally a freakout, but whatever. I’m not upset about it.”

  “Sorry. I still can’t talk about it, but I will eventually.”

  Her faced turned serious. “I know, kiddo. I understand. I just hope you’re not doing something stupid.”

  I smiled reassuringly. “I’m not, honestly. It’s totally fine.”

  “Look, if you’re ever in trouble, or need help, or whatever, call me. I know it doesn’t need saying, but this shady stuff has me worried, so there it is.”

  I laughed. “It’s not that shady, but thanks.”

  “Any time.” She went back to eating, visibly willing her hangover away.

  After that, things were much more comfortable between us. I felt a little guilty for leading Darcy on, but I couldn’t break Shane’s confidence, so I figured this was the best I could do. She was a great friend, and an understanding person. I knew we’d be fine.