Jennifer pulled away and swatted Erica's arm. "I told you, it works every time."
"Where is the poor schmuck?" Erica looked around the room. Her eyes focused in on Derrick. Derrick recognized something in Erica's expression that mimicked the way he felt. Shock!
Her mouth dropped open as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes as she stared at him. The look of disbelief.
One simple glance brought them right back to that night. Derrick scanned all the girls as he entered the party, but only one girl that suspended the moment for him, Erica, his fiancé's college roommate and his almost one nightstand that created a lasting impression that shows up every time he masturbates.
Jennifer took Erica's hand and dragged her across the room toward her fiancé. Erica kept a laser focus on Derrick as she approached him. His face, she never forgot. A squared chin defined his face and his mouth; those lips that made a girl think dirty thoughts. And Erica experienced first hand just how delicious his lips felt against hers. His espresso colored hair toppled over in wavy layers on his head. His eyes, the color of onyx framed by black lashes.
"Derrick, honey, I'd like you to meet my college roommate, Erica."
Derrick took Erica's hand in his and held it without performing the actual handshake. "Nice to meet you, Erica." In her heels, Erica stood almost eye level to him. Seeing her up close, again, in daylight proved even more spectacular than watching her from across the room, or in the depths of his memory.
"Nice to meet you. I've heard nothing about you except your spectacular taste in rings." Erica pulled her hand from his when she realized Jennifer stared at both their hands.
"OMG! You haven't seen my ring in person." Jennifer waved her hand in Erica's face. Erica stepped back and grabbed Jen's wrist. She stared at the ring for a hot second. "Jen, your arm must get tired." She directed her comment to Derrick. "Nice." Erica's expression said everything. She thought the ring was obnoxious. Derrick wanted to tell Erica that Jennifer owned everything about that monstrosity.
"You see Derrick. I told you she's out there. What girl is not into weddings? When doesn't a girl get excited about a diamond? Especially, one as bling as mine." Jennifer assumed Erica’s lack of interest in all things wedding was the reason she didn’t squeal over her ring. If Jen ever took the time to ask, Erica embraced definite opinions regarding her wedding day if a man existed special enough to drag her down the aisle.
"Jen, that's not nice." Derrick scolded her.
With her hands on her hips, she tapped her foot on the ground. "It's Jennifer. You know I hate the name, Jen." Jennifer flung her head nodding towards Erica. "She calls me Jen, but she's the only one I'll let call me Jen and only because she never listened when I told her not to." Jennifer bemoaned without taking a breath.
"Okay, Jennifer." Derrick scolded.
"Oh don't worry about me. Jen and I have a love-hate friendship. She thinks I’m out there, and I think she’s a bitch." Erica explained their relationship in simple terms. "No worries." She waved her hand in the air, brushing off the conversation.
Derrick couldn't agree more with Erica's depiction of his fiancé. Jennifer was a bitch. As for Erica being out there, Derrick deciphered nothing out there about her. If it meant different from all the pastel covered, squealing little piglets at the party then bring it on. In this crowd, Erica dressed in all black felt like a breath of fresh air.
Jennifer's face read something different. She expected Derrick to disagree with Erica's bitch statement, but just as an argument erupted, Jennifer's mother walked over and swept the two lovebirds away. "You two come with us there are guests we'd like to introduce to Derrick."
As Mrs. Pressman dragged Derrick off to perform his fiancé duties, he looked back at Erica. He swore she gave him a knowing look.
Jen did it again. When she wanted something, she got it, and Derrick topped it all. Jen impressed Erica over the years. Jen's determination never failed her. Erica thought back to the six months they spent abroad in France.
Jen wanted to go to France to chase a guy she met her freshman year in college. Astor, a French exchange student, showed no real interest in Jen from the first day of class, but Jen didn't let that deter her. She insisted they'd be together before the semester ended. Sure enough, they dated by the sixth week of the spring semester.
Jen heartbroken when Astor returned to France, she applied for the studies abroad program and followed him there. Aware Erica could not afford to go with her, Jen insisted her parents pay Erica's share. Jen could only ever tolerate Erica as a roommate. She blamed it on growing up as an only child. She never learned to share and Erica being the exact opposite, Jen never worried about Erica borrowing her things. So, Jen and Erica traipsed off to France in search of Jen's love, Astor, the little French exchange student.
When Jen found him, Astor acted surprised. Or maybe the awkward look on his face screamed fear. At first, Erica thought Astor looked shocked by their sudden appearance in France. Not until Jen walked away to answer her cell phone, did Astor confide in Erica that his feelings for Jen hadn't run as deep.
Erica let his confession simmer for...about a second. She assured him not to panic as she explained to him in French that, "When Jen sees all the good-looking French men running around, she'll get bored with you."
Instead of taking offense to what Erica said, Astor relaxed, and as Erica expected, Jen moved on to her next hunt four days later.
They met Astor at a small outdoor cafe on their way to the Arc De Triomphe, whereas Jen put it, "I had to break his heart." She repeated the story of her brush with romance with the French exchange student for a year after they returned. Every time she told the story, the French boy became more desperate.
Erica's perception of the situation differed from Jen's. The boy looked so happy after “Jen broke his heart” she swore he skipped away. As Erica also suspected, Astor was gay. Conveniently, Jen missed the young man waiting for Astor at the corner and the passionate kiss they shared.
Jen had a pattern with relationships. If she wanted a man, she got him no matter what, even if he was gay. Derrick, the most spectacular so far, was the first guy to put a ring on it. Erica wondered how Jen pulled it off. Typically, the men identified her true colors after a month and ran for the hills.
Derrick was hot, charming and sweet, way too sweet for Jen. Erica never forgot her brief encounter with him years ago, but she didn't spend enough time with him to know him.
The man must have a flaw. Erica lived with Jen for four years, and although they were friends, living with Jen could be difficult. She needed to control everyone and everything. Her rudeness had no boundaries, and she could be downright mean, and a real bitch.
Jennifer looked at the world in one way; we were all there for her benefit. Everything revolved around Jennifer. Jennifer's needs came first.
Erica accepted her right from the beginning. She understood that most of Jen's issues developed from her parent's issues. Jen came from money and lived a sheltered life. Her nannies and live-in housekeepers coddled her, and no one taught her to respect anyone. They spoiled her. If she wanted something, she only had to ask once, and they gave it.
Erica's life was the exact opposite of Jen's. Her mom was a piano teacher and her dad, a photographer. They lived a humble artistic lifestyle. Erica's parents never married but loved each other. As a family, they moved around a lot. Erica's mom would get bored with their living arrangements then her boredom turned into depression, and the only fix was a change in scenery.
Erica's life growing up was a constant adventure.
Fun most of the time, Erica understood it had a downside. Friendships never lasted. With every move, she promised to stay in touch but never did. And as Erica fell in love with her new surroundings, her mom sought the next big adventure.
Erica studied hard, earned scholarships to go to college, studied business. Once on her own, she settled down. Erica found her place and stuck with it. Erica's mother taught her to sew at a young ag
e and with her love of yoga and her business degree, she started her successful line of yoga clothes. The materials she used felt buttery soft and the prints unique. They had to be. The structure of yoga apparel left little room for creativity, so she branded herself with the uniqueness of her prints. Her yoga clothing line became a huge sensation on Instagram and it catapulted her business. She opened multiple storefronts in the top cities across the country.
Erica was easy going. Her free spirit attracted people to her. She underplayed her intelligence for the sake of those around her, but people who understood her saw through it. She owned a successful business and took good care of herself. Her responsibilities were great, yet there was nothing heavy about Erica.
Jennifer never used her college degree. She called herself an interior decorator, but she had never earned a paycheck. She did, however, dole out a lot of free decorating advice. With Jennifer's father always around to fund her lifestyle, Jennifer wanted for nothing.
Their extreme differences never stood between them. Erica and Jennifer remained friends through fours years of living together. It started the first day of their freshman year in the dorm. Erica took one look at Jennifer in her pink sweater set, khaki pants, and penny loafers and said, "We will have no problem getting along because I will never want to borrow any of your clothes and you will never want to borrow any of mine."
Their vast differences made it easy for their friendship to flourish. Jennifer never appeared threatened by Erica, and nothing offended Erica. The philosophy Erica lived by was your opinion of her was none of her business and this allowed everything Jennifer said to go in one ear and out the other. Their friendship, the healthiest friendship Jen had.
Erica snaked her way through the crowds of people. She attended many of the Pressman's parties, so she knew many of the people there. The women never welcomed her. They gave her the once over then turned and walked away with no acknowledgment. The men were kinder but guarded. They avoided stirring up unnecessary trouble for themselves with their wives.
Erica ordered champagne at one of the many makeshift bars and stood in the corner staring out at the hordes of people. Though comfortable in any environment, Erica acknowledged she didn't always fit in. Jennifer's other friends never accepted Erica. Erica asked Jen what issues they found with her, but Jen never gave her a solid answer. Though they treated her like an outcast, Erica always found someone to talk with at these parties even if it ended up being a cute waiter.
Erica watched as Jen's mom linked her arm in Derrick's and paraded him around to all her high society friends, some old money, some new. The CEO of some big name hospital attended with all his cronies, his wife, and his mistress. Big time contributors to the local public broadcasting station, families with seats on the stock exchange and many, old money aristocrats. The only introduction she gave, "this is my future Son-in-Law. He's a big corporate lawyer. He attended an Ivy League school. We're so proud of him." You would have thought the Pressman's were Derrick's parents, and that they paid for his Ivy League education.
Derrick seemed bored, and Erica watched as he scanned the room even when someone stood right in front of him. Erica and Derrick's eyes met way too often, and Erica realized he sought her out when no one noticed.
Erica's memories drifted back to that one Saturday night in college when Jen's boyfriend stopped by their dorm. He knew Jen was out but insisted on hanging out and waiting for her. Erica uncomfortable with the idea tried to make an excuse for leaving, but he didn't buy it since she wore pajamas.
The cheat jumped on Erica slobbering kisses all over her face, as Erica tried pushing him off, Jen walked in. Jen blamed Erica even though everyone labeled her boyfriend as a player. Jen never admitted out loud, but their friendship suffered for it. Erica's punishment lasted for weeks. Jen mastered the cold shoulder and Erica, all too familiar with it, accepted with grace. Like always, Jen met a new boy, moved on, and needed someone to share her elation, so tag, Erica was it.
Remembering all too well the wrath of Jen, Erica snuck out the first chance she got avoiding any missteps with Derrick. Derrick seemed like a good guy. Why put him in harm's way? Even the smallest conversation or the slightest inkling that Erica hooked up with Derrick in another life could send Jen in a tailspin, so Erica needed to extract herself from the situation.
The party winded down. Derrick exhausted needed fresh air. About an hour earlier, he realized Erica no longer occupied the same space as him. He scanned the room multiple times hoping to see her, but she never returned.
When Derrick broke free from Mrs. Pressman's grip, he found the most secluded room in the house, the kitchen. The staff lingered around, but they wouldn't make eye contact with him. Based on Jen's blatant dismissal of the butler who opened the door for them when they arrived, Derrick assumed they never interacted with the family.
Derrick stepped out back through a door in the kitchen. A small walkway of blue flagstone embedded in the thick grass framed by bushes manicured in rectangular shapes lined the path. The warm summer evening whispered a soft breeze against his skin. He inhaled a deep breath and stared up at the sky. He felt free and guilty. Everything about this day was wrong, and it was evident what he must do - postpone the wedding. He could use work as an excuse and the extra time would help him work out his feelings. He’d take a walk to clear his head before he talked to Jennifer.
As Derrick rounded the wall of bushes, he heard heavy breathing and a guy's voice saying, "You are the hottest thing here." Followed by more heavy breathing and a few more accolades. "Your tits are the hottest tits I ever had in my mouth."
Next, Derrick heard the voice, the smoldering hot voice that reminded him of sex. "Thank you but could you do less talking and more sucking and a little more nibbling, please?"
Derrick peeked around the bush. What he saw he would never forget, he'd make sure of it. The waiter spoke the truth; hers were the hottest tits Derrick had ever seen! He had the pleasure of touching them but to see them in the raw added a whole new light to the situation.
The waiter sucked Erica's nipple in his mouth while his hand kneaded her other tit. Derrick couldn't look away. Erica rested her hand on the back of the waiter's head coaxing his mouth to take her tit deeper, suck harder. Her head dropped back exposing the thin lines of her neck and the soft outline of her jaw. A husky moan escaped from her lips, and she said, "I could orgasm from you sucking on my nipples."
At hearing her words, Derrick faltered, lost his balance and fell back into the bush.
Erica's head resumed neutral position and the waiter... well, he ran, and he ran fast.
Derrick tried to escape from the bush, but it was as if the bush turned into a gigantic octopus, and trapped him in its arms. Branches and leaves encircled him making it impossible to free himself. Erica stood back watching this six-foot something man wrestling with the bush. She tried not to laugh as she walked over to him and extended her hand. Once on his feet, he stood and stared in complete adoration for the tits standing at attention in front of him. There were full and fell in a tear drop shape. Her nipples, the color of a summer peach with tight little buds in the center the size of quarters. The fierce desire to salute came over him, but he reined it in.
"You scared away my fling for the night.” Erica sounded disappointed, rather than annoyed.
Distracted by the scenic view of Erica's beautiful tits, Derrick couldn't speak. Thankfully, words failed him because his suggestion to be the waiter's understudy may have been inappropriate. At that moment, her tits became the eighth wonder of Derrick’s world.
Erica bent down, Derrick appreciated that view of her tits as well, to pick up her bra she flung on top of the bush when she and the waiter made out.
"Help me with this."
Erica placed her arms through her bra straps and turned so Derrick could hook it. Derrick made sure he took his time. Derrick stood as close as possible taking in her sweet musky scent and let his fingers linger a little too long on her skin. Her skin
felt as he remembered soft and warm.
Once it became weird, he hooked her bra closed. She turned to face him while she adjusted her breasts in each cup. The plump tops of her breasts spilled over the black lace trim of her bra. They jiggled with every movement she made taunting and teasing Derrick to dive in.
Derrick made lame small talk while Erica picked up her blouse off the top of the bush. "Nice Party." He fidgeted like an awkward teenage boy who stared at an over-developed naked older woman, very Mrs. Robinson.
"I guess." She looked down as she buttoned her blouse. "I never fit in at these parties. I show face for Jen."
"Where do you fit in?" Derrick asked.
"With a bunch of granola's doing yoga and eating sprouts." She paused. "Or at a dive bar drinking Jack and Ginger."
"Quite a range," Derrick said. Erica became more interesting as she revealed things about herself. "What's the space like between those two extremes?"
"I like to keep things simple, and it's crowded between the two extremes." She explained as if she had to answer that question many times.
"Crowded like in the front seat of an old BMW?"
"So you remember that night." Erica shook her head. "We need to forget that night happened."
"I can't but I can pretend, so tell me what you mean by crowded?"
"Crowded with stuff and people who like their stuff, and people who want more stuff so they can show off their stuff to the people who don't have or can't afford as much stuff." She explained.
"Stuff... like gray ties."
"That stuff is okay. I still have it." Erica said.
"I'm glad you kept it, maybe, one day, I can get it back," Derrick said, as the thought of her holding on to his gray tie settled. "So, it sounds like you are a minimalist."
"On some level I am. I like nice things, but I like things simple." She explained as she fixed herself and stared into his warm eyes. Eyes she tried to ignore earlier. "Do you feel comfortable here? Because I have a sneaky suspicion, you hate it as much as me."
The In-Between Girl Page 2