The In-Between Girl
Michelle Maris
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Maris. All Rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit, in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
[email protected]
First Edition - June 2, 2017
The Author recognizes all trademarks of any companies, products, and services mentioned in this work of fiction.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 1
2007
"Check out those girls." Remarked the guy in the blue shirt with the blue tie as he pointed to the corner of the dance floor.
"I've been checking them out. Well, one girl at least." said the guy in the white shirt with the gray tie. "The girl with the long black hair."
"That girl is hot. Check out that body." Said the guy in the blue shirt with the blue tie. "Go out on the floor, ask her to dance."
The guy in the white shirt with the gray tie downed his scotch and made his way towards the dance floor. He stood on the perimeter of the dance floor watching the girls rub up against anyone around them. Except for the girl with the long black hair, she danced alone to the music swaying her body around inviting no one into her space.
The guy in the white shirt with the gray tie stared as she closed her eyes and lifted her hands above her head. She moved her hips back and forth. The curves of her body snaked as she danced. Her dress clung to her body revealing rounded breasts and taut nipples.
White shirt, gray tie guy couldn't take his eyes off her, but he didn't have the balls to go up to her. The way she carried herself screamed you could look, but you can't touch. Entranced by her, he never realized she noticed him staring until she moved toward him.
"Do you want to dance?" She asked him.
"With you?" What a jackass.
"Yes, with me."
"I'd love to dance with you."
Before white shirt, gray tie guy put his foot in his mouth again; she took him by the hand and dragged him out on the floor. She grabbed his hands and rested them on her hips, and they swayed to the music. Their hips rubbed against each other as they danced. Next, she turned and pressed her behind into him as he grabbed her hips and drew her closer. By the third song, perspiration trickled down the skin on their backs, no light past between their bodies, and their mouths met.
White shirt gray tie guy glided his hands over her body, and she permitted him access to explore. When the beat of the fourth song started, she loosened his tie, raised it over his head, and slipped the tie around her neck. White shirt minus gray tie guy fell in love, or at least in lust.
The dance floor became crowded, and she suggested they should step out for fresh air. He nodded, and she held his hand as they pushed through the crowd to the nearest exit, which led to an outdoor patio. People lingered around, so she found them a more secluded spot on the patio. White shirt minus gray tie guy sat on the half rock wall surrounding the patio, pulled her into between his legs, and they made out.
The kissing intensified, and she pushed off him to catch her breath. "Did you drive her tonight?" She asked.
White shirt minus gray tie guy stood up, took her hand, and led her to the parking lot where he parked his old BMW. He opened the passenger side door, and she stepped in, while he walked around to the driver's side.
Sitting in his car with the seat pushed back, white shirt minus gray tie guy attempted some small talk. Instead, she leaned over the center console and kissed him. As they kissed, she crawled on his lap and straddled him. She hiked her dress up around her waist revealing sexy black lace underwear. White shirt minus gray tie guy fell hard. He wanted tonight, and he wanted to make certain he got her number because he needed to see her again.
"Do you carry a condom?" She asked as they continued nibbling on each other.
"Shit, no, but my friend should. I'll find him." White shirt minus gray tie (and now minus condom) guy forgot that one minor detail.
She stopped sucking on his ear and looked at him. Her face revealed nothing but disappointment.
"Sorry." White shirt minus gray tie and condom guy said. He felt like an ass.
"Don't be sorry; it's not meant to be."
"What, no! It's meant to be. I'm sure my friend brought a condom he'll let me borrow... I mean use."
She simpered while taking his face in her hands. "By the time you go back in and find your friend, I won't be in the mood. It's just not meant to be."
"I bet I can convince you otherwise."
"Let me guess; you're a lawyer."
"How did you know?"
She tugged on his tie around her neck. "What's your name?"
"Derrick." He said.
"Well Derrick, I enjoyed meeting you, but I must go." She said then kissed his mouth, jumped off his lap and fled out the door before he argued his case, or found out her name.
Chapter 2
The Black Sheep
"I can't wait for you to meet all my friends, especially Erica." Jennifer squealed as she held up a compact mirror while outlining her lips with a bright pink pencil.
"Remind me, who's Erica?" Derrick stared at Jen dragging the pencil along her lip line. Derrick hated Jen layering crap on her lips.
"How many times do I need to repeat myself?" She huffed. "Erica and I met as college roommates." Jennifer snapped the mirror closed. She twisted the pink pencil until it disappeared into the narrow tube.
"And we like this Erica?" Derrick asked as he fixed his gaze out the window. How he wished to be doing anything but this today.
"Like her. Why would you ask me that?" She asked as she slapped her hand down on the leather seat between them. "Do you ever pay attention to anything I say?"
"I asked because I can't keep up with who you like and don't like. I don't want to piss you off and be friendly to the wrong person." Derrick continued staring out the window.
"You make me sound like a bitch." Jennifer adjusted her mint green skirt making sure the pleats aligned.
"I never called you a bitch." Derrick never called her a bitch, but he thought it. As of late, bitchiness became her dominant characteristic.
Jennifer placed her hand on his knee. "I know you love me."
Derrick rotated his head to face her while the word love simmered in the surrounding air. The feelings Derrick experienced bore little resemblance to love. As Derrick examined her, he searched for the right words to describe his feelings for Jennifer. They dated for an over a year, and the fun part of the relationship lasted about a month, the first month.
The first month became all about the chase. Jennifer mastered the tease among other unsavory traits. Derrick became preoccupied with the physical aspects of Jennifer, notably, the aspects that Jennifer kept hidden from him. Every date ended with a kiss. There was only one time when Jen let him touch her breast over her shirt and his need to know grew.
Seven weeks from their first date, Jennifer and Derrick slept together. The wait was not worth the effort. Their sex had fizzled before it started. Jennifer showed no interest in sex. Her behav
ior during sex suggested she revered sex as an obligation, not a pleasure. She’d lie there as Derrick did all the work and within minutes it ended. He’d enter, pump, pump, pump, ejaculate, and finish. Jennifer told him not to worry about making her orgasm because she didn’t care. What the?
Jennifer assumed putting out gave her leverage, and she used leverage to push their relationship along. A whole year passed, and they still dated. Now he questioned why he stayed with her or why he asked her to marry him.
Yep, engaged to Jennifer, not what he imagined for his life. He pictured himself with a gentle woman like his mother; someone who smiled often and spoke kind words and gained respect because of her quiet confidence.
Jennifer exhibited behavior distasteful to him. She acted harsh, judgmental, and she perfected manipulation. Until recently, Derrick never noticed it. Now, her behavior was in his face. All. The. Time. He knew she used manipulation to push her agenda.
For the proposal, Derrick never popped the question. Jennifer picked out a ring and Derrick paid for it.
Jennifer talked rings, one month after Jennifer and Derrick slept together. She picked the stone, the cut and setting she wanted. She took various design ideas to the jeweler, and the process began.
When the Jeweler finished making her ring, Jennifer directed him to contact Derrick. Jennifer waited at home the night he picked up the ring. When Derrick walked in, she pulled the box from his hand.
Derrick assumed when he proposed there would be an engagement ring and a grand gesture. His unsuspecting girlfriend caught by surprise when he kneeled on one knee. The moment filled with tears and joy with family and friends to share the news. Derrick never expected a phone call from the jeweler to pay the balance of a ring he yet to see.
Jennifer expected what she got; a flawless three- karat diamond ring, a big engagement party, and a bigger wedding to plan.
Derrick represented the means to Jennifer's happy end.
Their relationship reminded Derrick of a ball rolling down a steep hill, picking up speed as it continued on its downward path. Once the relationship started, he lost all control of its course.
"You'll like my friends. They're a lot like me, well, except for Erica. She's nothing like me. She's a little out there. But everyone always likes Erica." Jennifer laced her words with jealousy. She reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. "I can't wait for you to see where I grew up.”
Jennifer moved from her hometown of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan to Chicago after college. While temping at a law firm, she met Derrick Anderson. Every girl at the law firm crushed on Derrick Anderson. Derrick possessed the balance of strong, confident, kind and friendly. All wrapped in a package of tall, dark, and handsome.
Jennifer thrived on competition; she made it her mission to be the one to land the guy every girl wanted.
Living in New York City most of his life, Derrick Anderson handled aggressive girls with ease. Jennifer Pressman's approach left him uneasy. She pursued him, and in true Jennifer fashion, she would not take no for an answer.
On their first date, he took her to one of the top restaurants in Chicago. He ordered expensive wine, and Jennifer picked the most expensive meal from the menu. Instead of saying thank you, she asked where he planned on taking her on the second date.
After the third date, Jennifer assumed they embarked on coupledom. The sexual part of their relationship stayed on first base with a quick turn at second base, but only for a second, then her hands moved his away.
She bragged to everyone she dated The Derrick Anderson. She referred to them as The Power Couple. Derrick didn't see it that way. He noticed all the red flags. Conversations with Jennifer comprised of listening to her talk about herself, talk about everyone else, and she loved listing every way anyone ever wronged her.
Derrick made excuses for her poor behavior and his decision to stay with her. The old "she'll change" or, "you must take the good with the bad" and "nobody is perfect."
Jennifer came from a wealthy family with a good name, and the prestige of her good family name would catapult his career. A partnership with Jennifer would take his life to the next level. The only problem, he recognized all the bad and no good and no matter how often he tried to convince himself he did the right thing, a nagging black cloud hung over his head.
The driver turned into a long driveway that ended in front of a sprawling Tudor-style home. "This is where I grew up." Jennifer slid forward on her seat. "It looks like most of the guests arrived." Cars lined the street on both sides. "Are you nervous?"
"No." Derrick rubbed his palms together. Derrick met Jennifer's parents once for a moment. They walked out of her apartment building as he arrived, their car service waiting to take them to the airport. The introductions took place on the sidewalk and lasted about five minutes. Though they were pleasant enough in that five minutes, he sensed an underlying pretension from both her mother and father but more so from her mother.
Derrick expected today to play out like Jennifer's debutante ball instead of their engagement party. Over the past year, he perfected his role as Jennifer's arm candy and today would be no different. Derrick could think of a hundred other ways he wanted to spend his day.
"Let's go." Jennifer jumped out of the car. She stood and straightened her skirt, adjusted the cuffs of her cream colored silk blouse, and leaned down into the car. "Oh, and you will at one point meet a girl named Sara Weiss. Don't be nice to her. I hate her."
"Why is she invited if you hate her?" Derrick never understood the social delicacies of being Jennifer Pressman.
"She's my mother's best friends daughter. I don't like her. I say hello and nothing more so don't be giving her any special attention. I hate how you are always kind to the underdogs." Jennifer explained then turned and walked towards the house.
Derrick saw that coming. The probability of there being someone in the crowd that Jennifer hated always existed. Jennifer expected Derrick to ignore the person or he would hear about it for days. If not, it became the biggest betrayal to her, and she reminded him of it along with all past betrayals until he admitted his wrongdoings and apologized.
They stood a few feet from the front door when it opened. A short, portly man dressed in a tuxedo welcomed them. Jennifer walked past ignoring him while Derrick said hello and thanked him.
It took only seconds to hear the high -pitched screams of girls and the clicking of high-heeled shoes on the marble floor. A sea of pastel dresses swarmed around Jennifer while she stretched out her arm revealing the ginormous diamond adorning her finger.
Derrick stood in the large foyer like a mature oak tree, tall and strong, unmovable. He observed the scene play out in front of him. It gave Derrick the first glimpse of her world, and it unsettled him in more ways than he understood. On the outskirts of the room stood Jennifer's fans ogling as she put on a show. With their toothy grins and tilted heads, they oohed and awed as they witnessed "The Jennifer Show."
All except for one...
One too dark for this scene, figure, a very nice figure at that, stood at the back of the room near a waiter serving appetizers on a silver tray. Nothing about her screamed pastel except her skin. Her skin porcelain, her hair raven black, her eyes jade green and her lips full and the perfect shade of pink, a shade only nature granted to the most fortunate.
She wore black from head to toe. A silky sleeveless blouse, tight fitting satin pants, and strappy high heels, the entire ensemble looked perfect against her milky skin - a welcomed contradiction to everyone in the room.
Derrick couldn't look away. That night came back to him in a rush of emotion. Derrick thought about her over the years. She was perfection except for one notable thing missing... his gray tie.
This girl must be Erica, the opposite of Jennifer. Nothing about Erica screamed, "out there." From across the room, her jade eyes smiled at you. They tilted up in the corners with fanned out lashes exaggerating the effect. Derrick thought about how she said it wasn't meant to be. What
will she say now?
She leaned into the waiter and whispered something in his ear. The waiter laughed, and Derrick became jealous. He wanted to know what she said. Derrick wanted to be the one she made laugh. Derrick wanted her sweet breath on his ear, again and to taste her on his tongue. It would taste sweet, and spicy like cinnamon as he remembered.
A voice called out from the center of the human sherbet sundae. "Where's Erica?"
Derrick looked at the girl in black. Engaged in a deep conversation with the waiter, she ignored the person calling her name.
Jennifer pushed her way through the crowd of admirers. Again, she yelled out. "Where is Erica?" The tone of her voice laced with irritation.
The girl wearing black flirting with the waiter looked up. "I'm over here, Jen." The sound of her voice reminded Derrick of that night, smoldering hot and sexy exactly what he remembered from the first time she spoke to him. Her voice breathy and raspy as he asked him if he carried a condom, not at all like the high pitched girlie voices coming from the center of the room.
Jennifer extracted herself from the crowd and made her way towards Erica who yet to move from her place next to the waiter. The waiter disappeared when Jennifer flashed him that evil eye look she perfected. When the girls stood face to face, Jennifer reached out her arms to embrace her college roommate, but instead of a hug, Jennifer gave Erica a scolding. "Why do you flirt with the help? Erica, a waiter." Jennifer took her friend's hands in her own and spread them out to either side eyeing her up and down. "Did you come from a funeral?"
Derrick stood back waiting for Erica's reaction. Instead of the reaction Derrick expected, Erica surprised him by taking her friend in her arms and embracing her. "Jen, my mother always said the bitches get the men."
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