by Fiona Lexus
But this. Is this me? I guess there is only one way to find out. Later today will be either the beginning or the end of a life for myself. Am I really falling for this fucker? I mean he is literally every woman’s dream. Except for the whole married and stalking thing. But even that sort of makes me wet in my Green Goblin panties.
I look at myself in the mirror one last time before having to leave and catch a Taxi to Downtown. We are meeting at Soledad’s by Jonathan’s firm. I really hate Mexican food. Maybe it’s a sign.
I arrive at 4:30pm, a half hour early, so I can give myself enough time to think that this is the worst mistake of my life and I should run for the hills. But the time passes and all I can think about is his body on top of mine and the heat between us and all of the wrong things to be thinking about when sitting a table across from two 80 year old men. I squint my eyes and slouch into the corner of the booth.
I can see the street from where I sit. It’s a beautiful day in New York and although it’s almost Christmas, I feel warmer than usual. I will probably have to go home for the Holidays. Mother always buys me a plane ticket to California. Although her and my father spend a lot of time in Washington D.C., California has always been home.
It doesn’t really matter what my parents do, and all you need to know is they (and my entire family) make a ton of money. I am the only one however that is a U.S. citizen. That makes me an asset I guess. I am also an only child, so the whole fucking weight of their worlds has always been pressed down hard upon my shoulders. That is why I escaped to New York in the first place. This place is mine and no one else’s. No family lives here, well at least not anymore (rest in peace Granny May). I can do whatever the hell I want and I don’t have to explain anything to anyone.
Derek asked me last week at work where I have been lately. He said “Why you ain’t been round missy?” He must be into watching Westerns or something right now, because he almost had a drawl when asking me.
I simply replied “I have a life you know!” and went back to work. I guess that’s unfair and Derek probably deserves more of an explanation, but what the fuck am I supposed to say? “Just having a heated affair with the neighbor, no biggy!”
I can see Molly walking across the street. This is my last chance of escape before entering a world which I am so not familiar. Before having to lie and make excuses and sneak around.
Nope.
All of those things sound fine to me. Holidays at home will at least now be filled with memories of scandal. I will be set apart (not that I’m not set apart already). When Gwen asks: “What have you been doing with yourself?” I can answer “Oh, just the usual, boring Emily stuff mom.” But secretly I will have this interesting, deviant lifestyle where I am contributing nothing to society, yet gaining all of the pleasures of life. This could not be a bigger YES! In my book.
Molly enters the restaurant.
I flag her down.
She sits.
“Don’t wave to me in public. Ever. I would have found you.”
Molly is taking off her gloves. She is stunning. Her hair is up in clips and she has red lipstick on. I feel like a young, foolish girl around her.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t realize.” I am watching her set her purse down and take out a pen. The waiter comes over and she orders a Margarita. I guess I should order something too, but I want to be coherent for this occasion. I order one anyway.
“This is fucking weird.” I say as I lean across the table trying to persuade her to be my friend, or at least acknowledge that this is fucking weird. She pulls out her compact mirror and applies more lipstick.
“If you don’t agree with the lifestyle, Emily, then don’t sign the papers.” She smacks her lips and puts down her tools of beauty. She gets away with this shit because she is drop dead gorgeous. She can be a total cunt because she has the looks. I can’t believe it, then again I can.
“Look, I know this must be a little upsetting…” She stops me.
She holds up her hand in the motion for me stop speaking.
“Look, I am fine ok? I’m sure Jonathan told you everything you need to know.” She says this as the margaritas arrive. She sucks down half of hers. I am impressed.
“What do you mean everything I need to know?”
Right then, like clockwork, in walks Jonathan wearing a grey suit and black tie.
He is so handsome.
I am not sure what to do in this scenario. Does she greet him? Do I? Do I stand? I feel underdressed. Fuck!
Jonathan walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek, but then heads to Molly’s side of the table and sits down next to her. I feel like I am being put on the stand here. What the fuck?
“Margarita?” I ask.
“No thanks love, I will have some wine I think.” He motions for the waiter. The waiter sets down chips and salsa and takes his wine order. Wine at a Mexican place? I wonder to myself. Oh well, I have more important shit to be worrying about other than his alcohol choices.
They are both looking at their menus. They are torturing me right now. They don’t say two words to each other, but are somehow in sync. They put down their menus at the same time. I pretend like I am reading mine instead of watching them. I sip on the last of my drink and catch Jonathan staring at me. I smile.
“So, what are we waiting for? I am sweating bullets here people.” I say in my usual Emily fashion.
Jonathan looks at Molly and nods. Molly pulls out a stack of papers from her purse.
“OK, Emily, I realize this is new for you so I will try and break it down into simplistic terms. I forbid the lawyer (Molly is pointing to Jonathan) from speaking as to not confuse you.”
I am looking at her with disdain. Did she just call me dumb? Oh well, let it go.
“Babe” Jonathan interrupts. “I just want to make sure you are on board with everything Molly and I have talked about. We have never taken our agreement this far before.”
I am a little shocked that they have already come up with an agreement. But, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. “Continue.” I say, very poised if I might add.
Molly lays out the first piece of paper. “OK, Emily, Here is the deal. Jonathan and I are married but have never been exclusive. We date other people regularly and we agreed from the beginning that our dating would have limits. These limits are basically defined as one night stands. I have however, done a week-long trip with a lover before, but that is beside the point.”
She looks at Jonathan, trying to get a reaction. He gives none, but continues to stare at me. “We have never really talked about the possibility of falling in love with one of our ‘flings’.”
Hold the fucking phone. Did she just say ‘falling in love’? I look at Jonathan. He smiles at me. Shit just got real.
“Um, I don’t understand.” I interrupt her.
“What don’t you understand?” Molly says condescendingly. She sighs and I can tell she is annoyed.
I look at Jonathan again. He is still smiling. Am I the only one who doesn’t realize what just happened? “Love is sort of a grey area for me, would you please define that further.” Jonathan looks astonished that I just said that.
“For fuck sake, J, you never told her you loved her?” Molly is yelling very loudly now. She rolls her eyes.
“Quiet down Molly, Jesus.” Jonathan looks around and then back at me. “Emily knows how I feel.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat.
“No, Emily doesn’t know actually.” I say and look around for my nearest exit. What they hell is going on here? What I thought was going to be a regular run of the mill sex contract, has turned into something I just can’t handle right now!
“Look, I think you two might need to talk, excuse me.” Molly butts her way past Jonathan. He scoots quickly out of his seat and never takes his eyes off of me. I can feel his intensity. He comes over to my side of the booth. “I’ll be at the bar. Let me know when you two have figured out what the fuck you are doing!” Molly yells loudly. Embarrassingly l
oud actually.
My heart is racing. I don’t need another complication right now. I brace for what he is about to say. He smells so good. He removes his jacket, rolls up his white sleeves and takes a sip of wine. He is facing me and I’m pressed up against the back of the wooden booth. I have nowhere to escape!
“Look Emily, I wouldn’t be spending almost every day with you, signing this contract with you, calling you…” He stops himself. He looks down. “I’m so fucking stupid!” He says, pounding his fist down on the table. My eyes widen. These two are acting like children.
“Look, Jonathan. I just wish you would have talked to me about this. I mean, I was doing just fine before you, you know?” I gulp hard because I know it’s a lie. I can’t do this.
“Really? You were perfectly happy before me?” He is laughing inside I can tell. He pushes my hair behind my ears. His eyes are glassy and filling with liquid. Oh, Jesus, a crier!
“Are you. Are you crying?” I lean in and whisper to him.
“No!” He pauses. Takes a sip of his wine. “I have allergies!”
I smile. He is so fucking adorable it hurts. I want to console him but I am so bad at it. I haven’t had to console anyone for a very long time. Fuck, even my cat doesn’t need consoling. OK, I lied, I had to console Derek when he watched the last episode of Downton Abbey. He was really shook up. I blink away my thoughts.
“Look, I don’t know what you have in that contract, but I have a feeling it’s nothing I’m prepared for.” I look at him trying to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Sex, sex I can do. This… no, no way.” I grab up my things and he pulls them back out of my hand. My purse, my cardigan. He places them down on the table. Give him a ‘what the fuck?’ look.
“Emily, I am not giving you a choice here. There is no other option for me.” He is sitting up taller now. Fucking lawyers always trying to talk their way out of shit.
“I’m sorry, but since when do you get to dictate what I do?” I grab my things up quickly and this time hold them tightly in my arms. I am scared he might be able to convince me. That I will turn down a path I might never recover from.
“Please move Jonathan. I have to go.” He does.
“Where are you going? I know where you live Emily, you can’t escape from me!”
I gather myself for a second and turn to him. He is perfect and wants me. I am so stupid. I look up at him with sympathetic eyes. “I really am sorry, but maybe I’m not who you think I am.” How dramatic right? But then I add… “I’ll see you around.” Perfect ending to the scene. My heart is pounding but I make it at least to the front of the restaurant. Molly is watching me. She seems amused. She stands and watches me leave.
The front doors seem so heavy. I race to the street and hail a cab. Luckily one arrives right away. I get in and look out the window. I can see Jonathan sitting back down in the booth with his hands clasped together. I wonder what he is thinking. All I am thinking is how I need to get out of here.
“La Guardia please!” I yell up to the cab driver. I check my purse, I have $400 cash on me and an American Express card. That will have to do.
It’s dark by the time I reach the airport. I head for the American Airlines desk, I have mileage I can use on my card. I ask the cute blonde lady at the desk when the next flight to San Francisco is.
“We can put you on the Red Eye, but you have a few hours of waiting.” She smiles her fake smile.
Without hesitation I reply “Sounds good!” And I hand her my card. Once I am through security I make my way up to the same coffee shop I met my mother just months before, pause and remember Gertie.
Fuck!
I am the worst cat mommy ever!
Who should I call? I have no choice.
I call Derek.
I leave a message.
I try to sound as sweet as possible.
“Hey boss, I had to make a last minute trip out to California. It was sort of an emergency. Would you be able to go by and feed Gertie tomorrow? Key is under my mat like always. Just fill up her bowl and she will be fine for a couple of days. Thanks I owe you! Oh, ya and I can’t come into work tomorrow. I really owe you I guess. Sorry!”
What the fuck am I doing? That’s right, escaping my weird, crazy life. Escaping from a man who loves me. A married man. I sit and drink coffee. I check my messages. There is already one from Jonathan. I turn off my phone. Right about now I’m missing my boring life. The way it used to be.
My mind quickly wanders to my first night with Jonathan. To my picture. To the rush of blood to my head when I saw it. To the rush of blood to my loins when I see him. I just can’t seem to shake this feeling something crazy is going to happen.
11
Mike
I am landing over a large body of water, or at least that’s what it looks like. The sunrise is spectacular over the bay. I take a deep breath and stretch. I have been sleeping for hours. I look at my watch. Yep, for 6 hours. For a minute I get worried so I check my phone. A text from Derek reads: “Gertie got some grub. Hope everything is ok. Peace out!” Oh, thank goodness for that strange, large man for feeding my cat. He is a life saver for sure. I owe him. But I do not owe him sex, even if he begs for it!
What is my plan? I ask myself. Like, what am I doing running home to Mommy and Daddy? Leaving New York and heading west? I didn’t think this through, but now that I am awake and landing, I realize what a mistake this could be. It’s almost Christmas, and it’s the weekend, and that means my parents are probably hosting some sort of party or function or attending a Gala.
Ew, gross!
Ok, Emily, you have no clothes, and you forgot your phone charger, excellent! This will probably turn out to be one of those weekends that, years from now, I will laugh about, and say how young and stupid I was, but by gosh was I glad that I jumped on that plane.
Or at least I hope so.
I look down at my phone again and there are a few missed calls. I assume they are from Jonathan. I Check. Yes, all from Jonathan. Am I the loser in this scenario? Am I missing out on some really great, passionate make-up sex right now? Or maybe that Mexican restaurant that I stormed out of yesterday was really tasty, and super-sexy neighbor duo, Molly and Jonathan stayed up all night talking, eating chips and sipping on Margaritas. Am I missing out on being with this amazing guy just because, well, because he’s a total creep, stalker, dominant?
Eh, maybe.
The sheep are getting off the plane. By sheep I mean the twenty or so of us on this red eye, trying to persuade our bodies up out of the chairs, down the long run way, past the perky and too-awake stewardess who is waving at us annoyingly, and get on with our lives.
We sheep, who are all here for the same reason- we didn’t plan well. Most of us are gripping tightly onto our phones, waiting for some important call to come in. Or just as a reflex that is now built into our DNA, I’m not quite sure. It’s six something in the morning, and usually all of my most important calls come in at this time. NOT! I would fucking murder someone if they tried calling me at this hour! But what do you know? My phone buzzes.
It’s Jonathan.
The greedy married man.
Just one short glimpse of his name on my phone and I am a wreck of a woman.
I hit ignore and step out into the airport with my purse and cardigan and phone in hand. I make my way to the taxis, as they file in. There are only two lined up so far. I walk up to one of them, when all of a sudden, some rude bitch of a lady jumps in right before me! Even in New York this rarely happens. I wait for the next one, too tired to fume about what just happened, but also anxious to get my ass in a shower.
I hop into the yellow cab and a nice Indian gentleman asks me where I want to go and I tell him and we chat for about twenty minutes. I am looking out the window, he is looking straight ahead. Where are you from? Where are you going? That sort of thing. But then I look at the name tag on the front dash.
Michael Chaudhry as plain as day.
“Michael?
” I ask and squint as I scoot further up onto the edge of my seat. Finally he looks back in the mirror and over his shoulder.
“Yes? Who’s that?” He comes to a stop sign and turns around and squints.
“It’s me, Emily Hawkins!” I pause and wait for an excited response which never comes. Mike just looks back towards the road and continues driving. “Mike, we went to school together, and we were in math club for two years, and you dated Becky Spencer for one week in seventh grade.”
So, usually I’m not so intent on caring about people I know, past or present. And normally I would ignore someone just like myself in this scenario, and I couldn’t blame Mike’s silence. But I needed something from him.
“Emily, I do remember, yes, yes, how are you? I mean you are probably wondering what I am doing driving a cab.”
I promptly answer “Nah, I work the night shift at a gym, I really don’t give two fucks what you do Mike. But how are you?”
He laughs. “Well, I’m driving a fucking cab Emily, that’s how I am.”
I laugh now too. “Right.” I answer.
I pause and bite my nails. Wait, did his accent just change? He looks back in his mirror. “Mike, I could have sworn you had this deep Indian accent when I got into your cab…” I sit back now and put my seat belt on for the first time. He is making me nervous speeding up, slowing down, and turning corners. I forgot what hell it is to drive in this city, even this early.
He looks back in his mirror and smiles “Yeah, the tips are a lot better if I have an accent. Plus it’s fun to play the part.” I nod because I understand exactly what he is talking about. Playing a part. “So you home visiting the mother?” He asks as he straightens his beanie.
“Ya, I guess you could say that.” I look out the window. I notice we are getting close so I decide to ask Mike the question about the thing I need. “Hey Mike, back in high school, you know how you sold…”