I spent the next few minutes sending dirty looks over to Mr. Surly. Before long Slick was sitting beside me. He leaned in close, examining my face. “Wow. Rough night, Champ?”
Agitated, I pushed him away from me. “I'll take a lift, but skip the judgments, alright? My night has sucked enough already.”
Slick grabbed my purse and helped me off the stool. It occurred to me that my original intention had been to leave the bar full of giggles and free of worries. Somehow, the reverse had happened. My head was spinning and I knew the worst was still to come.
Slick opened the car door and started to help me in when I stopped him. “This is all wrong.” I shook my head as I studied his jacket. It was a suit jacket. Who leaves their house at eleven at night in a suit jacket? Has he ever been unprepared for anything?
His words snapped me out of my haze, “What's wrong?”
“This...everything. Tonight was supposed to be fun, I wanted to forget about everything.” I stared at his lips, realizing that I still had a chance to have some fun. Before I had time to rethink it, I reached up and kissed Mick...Slick, whoever.
At first he pulled back a little, obviously shocked. Now, had I been even remotely sober, it would have been awkward enough to make me stop my pursuit. Instead, I pulled him in closer and kissed him harder. After a moment, I felt him lean in and respond.
Finally, something this man does that doesn't piss me off! We kissed for a few minutes, leaning against the car. I broke away just long enough to whisper, “Take me to your place.”
Without hesitation he answered, “You got it.”
I flopped backwards into the car and Slick jogged around to the driver's side. I was surprised at how quickly he'd said yes. Of course, it was an offer of sex, and he was a man. I was just used to the type that would immediately ask something like, “are you sure?”
I felt the engine rev as Slick whipped the Mercedes out into traffic. I decided I liked his response much better.
Chapter 10
I had a feeling I wasn't in my own apartment. That feeling was cold. My apartment has air conditioning, I know this because I have a handy square thermostat on my wall. It doesn't activate any kind of cooling apparatus, but it's fun to play with the switches and pretend there's a point.
So naturally, when I felt a chill in the middle of July, I knew something wasn't quite right. The one eye I opened was met by dimness, the only light coming from an open door on the far side of the room. I was about to investigate when I got dizzy.
Moaning, I laid my head back on the pillow. I knew I was going to pay for last night. What I could remember of last night, anyway.
“Yeah, I figured you'd be in pretty bad shape.”
I jerked my head to see a boxer-clad Mick standing next to the bed. “Oh, man. My head is going to pop off, I swear to God.”
He laughed, quietly at least, and held up a glass. “Here, drink some. I got you some aspirin too.”
“You did?” I took the glass and washed down the pills. “What time is it?”
“It's a little after seven. Don't worry about it though, just go back to sleep.”
I tried to sit up. Though he was being incredibly-if not suspiciously-sweet, I wanted to be in my own bed. “It's okay, I'll go home. You don't want me lying here all day.”
Lightly pushing me back to the pillow, he asked, “Why not? That's what I'm going to do.” He went around the bed and laid down next to me.
I'm in bed with Slick. I'm in bed with Slick? I felt his arm brush against mine as he made himself comfortable. I lay there like an old plank of wood, afraid that if I moved, an alarm might sound, alerting him to the fact that a receptionist was next to him..
After a few minutes Slick started to snore. Once I knew he was asleep and it felt safe to exhale, I relaxed into the bed and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sensation of fingers running up my arm. When I opened my eyes, Slick was sitting next to me, offering me a cup of steaming coffee. After a quick assessment, I knew I was feeling good enough to sit up. Grateful for the caffeine, I took the mug and sipped the very strong coffee.
It was unnerving; sitting in bed with Slick. He kept his eyes on me as he drank from his own cup. After a minute he shocked me by saying, “I can't believe you're in my bed right now.” He ran his hand surprisingly high up on my thigh. “Last night was mind-blowing.”
Well, that answered the most immediate question. The biggest drawback of drowning my sorrows was not recalling anything about last night, save a really grumpy bartender. Obviously, the greatest benefit was the complete disappearance of all my inhibitions, evidenced by the fact that Slick called the night “mind blowing”.
“Just exactly what did we do last night?” Specifically, what angles did you see me from?
He leaned into my neck and murmured, “You don't remember?” Running a hand up my leg he growled, “I'm up for a repeat performance...”
I squirmed away from his hands and stammered, “Uh-no. I mean...I think I should get going.” I got out of bed and turned in circles, searching the floor for my clothes. “I'm sure you've got a lot to do. Thanks for helping me out last night and everything-” I looked over at Slick, still on the bed, watching me with amusement. “Where are my clothes?”
Without taking his eyes from mine he tilted his head toward the bathroom door. “In there. But I really don't have much to do today...” His gaze fell to the bed. “Unless-”
I cut him off, “No thanks. I mean, Mick, I really should go.”
I made a break for the bathroom, thankful to have a door between us. I threw on my clothes before I faced the mirror. It wasn't pretty. I had what was left of my makeup smeared all over me, and my hair looked like some sort of Chia Pet that was never trimmed.
I moaned at my reflection. After a minute to freak out, I realized all I could do was make a quick exit. I washed my face, found a clip for my hair in my jeans pocket, took a deep breath and opened the door. I was relieved to see that Slick had disappeared.
I made my way quietly to the living room, marveling at how clean everything was. Who was this person? I'd never seen a man's apartment like this: no dirty dishes lying around, no jackets tossed on the backs of chairs. Nothing. Weird.
I had the front door in my sights when I heard his voice behind me, “There's really no need for the walk of shame, Estelle. I'll drive you home.”
Wincing, I turned back to face him. Since I was still in shock, all I could do was thank him for the lift. Brilliant.
As soon as we pulled up in front of my apartment I opened the door. No point in stretching out my embarrassment. I had one leg out the door when he grabbed my arm. “Hang on, I wanted to ask you something.”
Damn my slow-moving hungover self. I was so close to freedom. I took a deep breath and turned back to him, afraid of what I might hear.
He was giving me that perfect grin. “I wanted to know if I could see you again?”
“Really?” I blurted.
“Yes. Really.”
“Well, yeah...Really?”
He laughed out loud, “Estelle, yes! Really. How about tomorrow night, after work?”
Was I really going to date Slick? I knew it wasn't a good idea. Even in the best case, I knew I was signing myself up for torment.
I smiled back at him with my so-not-a-toothpaste-commercial grin. “Tomorrow is perfect.”
Chapter 11
I stared at the stylist's reflection in the large, round mirror. “So, you really think I should go blonde?” I asked her this as though her opinion was the only one I could trust, even though I'd only met her fifteen minutes ago.
Kat, my new stylist/most trusted adviser nodded vehemently. “Absolutely. Trust me on this, it'll change everything.”
She was starting to sound like Mick. We'd been seeing each other every night for the past week, and he also seemed to think change is what I needed. The night before last, we'd been sitting in bed together, munching on carrot sticks (Mick refused to eat carbs at ni
ght for fear that his perfect body would suffer) when he suddenly began studying my hair.
At first I was flattered because I thought he was admiring my post-coital glow. Until, that is, I saw how he was looking at me. His head was cocked to the side and his face was scrunched in concentration. It made me feel like I was an old jacket covered in grease stains. Sure, I kept him warm, but was I worth the repair effort, or should I just be tossed?
He handled a strand of my hair. “Have you ever thought about highlights?”
I'd considered them, but I didn't have the patience or the funds to constantly keep them up. Of course I couldn't tell Mick that so I said, “Um, I don't know. Do you think I'd look good with highlights?”
He nodded wisely, and to my surprise, he said he'd set up an appointment with “his stylist”. Call me old-fashioned, but I wasn't sure if I wanted my boyfriend and I to go to the same stylist. I wasn't sure I wanted my boyfriend to have a stylist.
Since it was the beginning of the relationship, however, I didn't want to make waves. Which explained why I was sitting in this chair being talked into something I was pretty sure was going to be a mistake.
Kat winked at me, urging, “What do you say? Should we go for it?”
“Why not? I can always change it later, right?”
Kat beamed at me. “Oh, you'll love it, I promise. And you're not the only one.” She winked at me. “Mick loves his women with blond hair.”
Thirty minutes later I emerged from the salon a whole new woman. I wasn't sure I was a fan of this new woman's hair, but Kat had been so enthusiastic, part of me was excited about the change. I just hoped Mick was as excited as the stylist was. I loved how it felt though, something about having my hair blown out at a salon; it always makes me feel fancy.
I was also feeling a little kept. When I asked what I owed her, Kat waved a hand at me and told me it had already been taken care of. It seems Mick not only made the appointment, he told Kat that whatever miracle she preformed on my locks was to be put on his card.
I was digging through my purse searching for my ever-vanishing keyring when I heard someone call my name. I looked up, and there was Gina.
I hadn't spoken to her since the day we had lunch with Tess. She always smiled at me when we passed each other, but that was as friendly as we got. I felt awkward around her, knowing so much about her personal life.
She ran her fingers through her glossy, perfectly styled hair and smiled at me. “I thought what was you. Wow! Up for a change huh? I love the new highlights! I didn't know you came here?”
“Oh, well I don't normally. Mick...he suggested it.” Mick and I hadn't discussed what we were saying to people, so I hoped she wouldn't suspect anything.
“Oh, I see.” Gina nodded knowingly, making it clear that I'd just blown our cover. “Do you have plans for lunch? I'm starving, and I hate to eat alone.”
“Lunch would be great, I'm famished.”
We walked down the street to an outdoor cafe, taking a small table that had a nice view of a fountain and ordered drinks. As soon as the waitress left with our orders, Gina leaned in. “So, fill me in! How long have you and Mick been...together?”
“About a week. But please don't mention it to anyone, I don't know if Mick wants people to know about us yet.”
“Oh, sweetie, everyone saw this coming. I mean, please. The way you two have been,” She busted out the air quotes. “'looking at houses' every night for the past few weeks, it's no secret.”
“Gina, I swear, nothing was going on until a week ago.”
She shrugged, considering my response. “Well, maybe that's true, but we still saw it coming. Mick has had his eye on you ever since...well, for a while.” She looked guilty as she sipped her water.
I smirked and looked at the menu. I knew what she meant. I almost pressed her, but she seemed uncomfortable already, and I didn't want to make things worse.
Gina took a deep breath. “Look, Estelle. I know it's not my place to mention this, but...you should be careful with Mick.” She looked around as if he might be lurking in the bushes before continuing, “Sometimes he can be ruthless. I've seen him walk over people to get what he wants.”
I was surprised that Gina would caution me against him. Admittedly, she seemed nicer than Tess, but I always had the impression that they were in a tightly-knit club. Was she really concerned about me, or was this just another attempt to sway me away from Mick?
Only one way to find out. “Gina, is this about my inheritance? Are you saying Mick's sleeping with me to get a fat commission?”
She winced and shook her head. “I'll be honest with you, Estelle. Yes, I think it's about the money-” she continued rapidly, “and I'm not trying to say that you aren't good enough for him...not at all. I just want to make sure you go into this with your eyes open.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” And I really did appreciate it. I took a sip of my drink and tried to ignore the feeling in my stomach. It was that unsettled feeling I got whenever I was feeling guilty. I'd finally come across a drawback to my little charade; I was lying to someone who was genuinely decent.
Hoping to shake off my guilt, for the moment anyway, I turned the conversation toward Gina. “I've been wanting to ask...how you're doing? I mean, I know you may not want to talk to me about...things. I just felt for you the other week when you were talking about your husband.”
Her face fell and instantly I regretted bringing it up. “Oh, that. Things have been tough with Steven. I'd hoped we could work it out, but he actually moved out this weekend.” She covered her face, her voice quivering, “I never thought he'd really leave me.”
“Gina, I'm so sorry. I never should have mentioned it, I didn't mean to upset you.”
She shook her head and tried to smile. “I'm actually glad you mentioned it; it's nice to have someone to talk to about it.”
“Well, you've got Tess too, right? You seem so close.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, but lately she's been distracted. Sometimes I feel like she's sick of hearing me whine.”
“Why?”
“Oh, because she never thought I should marry Steven in the first place. And now that we're breaking up, I feel like she's always dying to say, 'I told you so'.” She sighed and mixed her iced tea with a straw. “Lately I've just tried to avoid talking about it.”
It was a horrible thought. I immediately thought of Kami and how she was always supportive of me. To me it was always the best feature of a best friend; they were always on your side. At least they were always supposed to be. I looked over at Gina, feeling more connected to her than I ever expected. It occurred to me that maybe I was looking at a new best friend.
“Hey, Gina? What do you say we make this a weekly thing?”
“What's that?”
“How about we go out for lunch once a week? Lately I've been feeling distant from some old friends, and I'm thinking what I need is some new ones. Interested?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I'm in!” She raised her glass. “Here's to making old stories new again.”
I clinked her glass with mine. “To fresh blood, absolutely.”
Chapter 12
After my lunch with Gina I felt more like my old self. Though only a few weeks had passed since I'd first invented this new life for myself, it felt more like a few years. As I ate lunch and listened to Gina talk about Steven, I could tell she really cared about him. She kept saying that he was the only one for her...that she wished they could work it out.
As she talked I couldn't help but picture Mick's face. Not because we had the same relationship; exactly the opposite. He definitely wasn't the only one for me. Admittedly, he was incredible in bed, but that was about the extent of it. Things had gotten out of hand; I was acting like I would in a real relationship. I was walking around with highlights I didn't want, I was eating carrots at night, for god's sake. I spent a whole lot of my time thinking about what Mick would like. I needed to regroup. I'd started this whole money rumor to
enjoy myself more. When had I lost sight of that? It was time to have some fun.
Five hours later I knocked on Mick's door. He opened the door for me all smiley and sweaty. Looks like I had perfect timing. He was wrapped in a towel, headed for the shower, just like every night we'd been together. Mick was a gym fanatic, actually he was sort of an everything fanatic. Every night at five-thirty he'd get to the gym, work out for two hours, get home, take a shower, have dinner, watch TV and read. Then the evening was topped off with a respectable go-round in the sheets. He was such a stickler for routine, I wondered if it threw him when the girl between the sheets changed. From what I'd experienced, I'd say no.
“Hey Babe. Love the hair!” He gave me a quick peck. “I was just going to grab a shower, give me ten minutes.”
“No problem.” I sauntered toward the kitchen and started unloading the bag I'd filled at home. Since I knew Mick wouldn't be home from the gym for a while, I got everything ready in my kitchen. I thought it'd be nice to cook him dinner, my kind of dinner.
Typically, if we didn't go out, Mick would whip us up something light. He was very into grilled chicken, large, leafy salads with light vinaigrette dressing and steamed vegetables. The only time I'd ever seen him eat a carb was when we went out. Even then he kept it to a minimum. I figured it was because he liked to pretend he could eat whatever he wanted and still look phenomenal.
Up until now I'd gone along with his preferences. Seems like all I ever said to him was, “Are you kidding? That bowl of crunchy lettuce was huge, I couldn't eat another bite!” Well, not tonight.
I turned on his oven and grabbed a cookie sheet. I pulled out a loaf of french bread that I'd already buttered and sprinkled with garlic. I put both pieces on the cookie sheet, piling them with mozzarella cheese before putting them under the broiler.
Now for the big kahuna. My homemade lasagna, in its insulated container, was still piping hot. I took off the lid and was hit by the mouth-watering aroma. I couldn't wait to dive into it.
The Millionaire Myth Page 5