“Why would you be upset?” He asks. “I brought some wine to help you celebrate.” He looks utterly confused and I almost begin to feel sorry for him. Almost.
“Are you taking the piss? Why would I be celebrating? Fucking hell Matthew, do you even know what happened today? And before you answer, I’d think long and hard about it.” My voice cracks. That’s it, gone. All my composure that I’ve been trying to hold together is slipping bit by bit and I’m really struggling to keep all my anger, hurt and frustration locked away. So far, I’m not doing so well and any minute now, this bitch is going to blow.
“You finally got promoted?” He asks, a little bit of hope shines through his voice.
My eyes fly back towards Matt and I stare him down. Is this all some sick joke to him? “Say, what now? Why on God’s green earth would you think that I would get promoted? Try suspended.”
It turns out that Matt was just as oblivious to my new-found suspension as I was. At least he’s still rooting for team Emily, then. I suppose I should be happy that the boy knows exactly where his loyalties should lie, but I’d still bet my life that he’d poke that horrific demon, Cruella given half the chance. That is if he hasn’t done so already.
“I’ll grab another bottle.” I slur, quietly eyeing the three empty bottles that are currently occupying my kitchen table. I know that I’m going to suffer like a MoFo tomorrow, but right now I really couldn’t give a toss about it. Any of it. Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything to get up for anymore, is it? I could become a raving lush, more so than I am now and be guilt free while binging on the latest box sets.
“You know, all this has to be some kind of sick and twisted messed up joke. No way would Graham suspend you. It’s just not his style.” Matt chimes in as I carefully and not too soberly step back towards out little party for two. You know, I wasn’t all that keen on these black and white tiles for the kitchen floor originally, but by God have they saved me from breaking my neck on multiple occasions. So longs as I remember to look down and step perfectly over them, I usually remain vertically upright. Good old Gran, watching out for me once again. Plus, there’s no denying that they’d make a cracking board for a real-life game of wizard’s chess.
“Exactly,” I say. “I don’t know how many times I asked him as to why, either. He definitely wasn’t ready for playing ball and giving me an answer. Apparently, in his words, it’s best for everyone if he doesn’t get involved.” I shrug, utterly defeated. The only thing left to do is grab my wine glass and take a massive glug of the good stuff.
“Bollocks. That’s bullshit Parker and you know it. They have to tell you the reason for the suspension. Unless…” Matt’s eyes drop down to the table and he falls unusually quiet. Now is not the time for bloody quiet.
“Unless what?” I shout, demanding answers.
“Unless. I don’t know, maybe the company’s struggling and Graham’s suspended you while he decides if he really needs to lay you off?”
“No, it can’t be that. If I was being laid off I’d like to think that he’d at least have the decency to tell me the script right from the off.”
“What, like he’s been up front and honest with you today?”
I decide it’s probably best to ignore Matt’s little comment. I don’t think I need to be reminded of what went down earlier. “Plus, I’d also like to think that you’d be having the same conversation with him too if that’s the case.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“He just wasn’t himself, though.” I add. “He was all hard and cold, nothing like the big soft teddy bear that we all know and love.”
“That’s business, sweetheart. I wouldn’t take it personally.” Matt sing songs and I know that he’s just trying his best to cheer me up, but it’s not working.
“No?” I reply sarcastically. “I love you Matthew, but you ain’t half full of shit at times.” Dick. It’s all right for him to sit here and say that, he’s not the bloody one in the firing line, is he? No, that would be yours truly.
My head’s going to be so bad tomorrow. I’m trying my best to focus and listen to what Matt’s jabbering on about, but it’s all white noise. It really doesn’t help matters that when I look up at him all I can see is two of him swaying back at me. Truthfully, this is fast becoming quite the habit.
“Hmm?” I say, silently praying that I’ve chimed in at the right minute. One look at him and his wide green eyes show me that I haven’t. Shoot.
“You do, huh?” He slurs back at me. Shit, I better start listening to what he’s saying to me, otherwise, I could end up in all kinds of trouble.
“I do, what? Sorry, you lost me for a second there.”
“Thought as much.” He laughs back at me and it’s such a happy, carefree laugh. Oh, I’ve always been quite fond of his laugh. “I said I’m well smashed. Do you want me to stay over?”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl, you know. I’ll probably just crash out in a minute anyway.” Right after I’ve been sick, but I’m sure he’ll live a much more satisfactory life without knowing that teeny, tiny piece of information. I look down towards my empty glass sitting innocently on the table and begin to debate whether or not I should have anymore. My little red devil on my shoulder is all for it, dancing up and down excitedly, pressing its hot fork into my skin shouting, “Oh, go on. Just one more drink…”
“Right Parker, if it’s all right with you then, I’m gonna shoot.”
At the sound of those words, my mind automatically wanders off to me being all tucked up in bed, nice and cosy with nothing but four spinning walls for company and it sounds like sheer bliss.
Tiredness suddenly consumes every inch of me and I feel like I could sleep for all eternity. Well, there’s not really much stopping me, is there? Yes, bed is a bloody good idea, probably the best one that I’ve had all day. I lift my heavy eyes from my glass and I try my best to focus on Matt...
Wow. What the actual fuck?
Nothing in this world and absolutely no amount of alcohol could have ever prepared me for this. How the hell did this happen? How did I get from trying to listen to Matt as best as I could to… this? I’m unable to move, my whole body is rigid, completely routed to the spot from shock?
Matt’s manly scent dangerously mixed with alcohol and the faded smell of Boss original totally consume me and take over all my senses as his lips gently trace mine. Any rational thoughts that I may have had, have long gone, packed their bags and left for the hills. They’ve upped sticks; just like that, without any bloody care as to how I’m supposed to cope in this situation.
This is wrong. I know it’s wrong, but dear God it also feels oh, so, right. I’m feeling places of my body that I never even knew existed, and some that have been dormant for far too long.
All too soon, Matt pulls away from me, his right hand delicately encasing my face as he says, “are you all right?”
I don’t answer him straight away. My body is defying me here at every possible turn. Jesus Christ, I’m wasted and my head’s already over the place without throwing this little game changer into the mix. My lips feel cold and bare at the sudden loss of contact with him and I’m not too sure how I feel about it. Strange, yes. Completely taken aback, abso-fricking-lutely. My head starts to spin again, yet I don’t remember it spinning while Matt was kissing me. Oh, I really don’t want it to spin anymore. Without giving it too much thought, I find myself launching all 9 stone 10 of me directly at him, not really giving two hoots as to whether I’m acting like a raving sex deprived hussy, because, well come on let’s face it, I am. I can’t really deny it, and I’ve been celibate for an absolute age.
“Easy, tiger.” Matt gently mouths against my lips as I almost send us both toppling backwards onto the kitchen floor from my new found drunken strength. “Hulk doesn’t have shit on me.” I silently giggle to myself.
“Shhh…” I reply out loud, before staking my claim on him and grabbing a firm hold of those perfectly, beautiful
, manly and sinful biceps. “Don’t talk, just kiss me.” I demand and God love him, he’s happy to oblige.
Although I’m having a right whale of a time now, I just hope that my sober mind doesn’t live to regret this. The self-doubt in the back of my mind is currently dancing proudly with her pom-poms letting me know that regret is well and truly on the cards, so I shut her out, locking her into the back of my head while I enjoy the feeling of this manly beast before me.
My breathing is still taking over my body and my chest rises and falls rapidly and I’m struggling to control it.
WOW…
Just wow. I don’t really have any other words to describe what just happened. Did I dream it? No, that’s not possible, it was far too real and too good to be just a dream. I look to my right and see Matt’s muscular back on display with one of his long, lean legs sprawled out on top of the quilts. Funnily enough, I must admit that I kind of like the look of him sprawled out completely naked on my bed. I could stare at his body all day long, well, at least when he doesn’t know that I’m doing it. Trust me, Matt really doesn’t need any form of ego boost.
One thing I do hate though, is snoring. I hate it with an absolute passion. So much so that I often thought of murdering Tyler because of it. There’s nothing worse than broken sleep. I soon came to realise why people are known to use it as a form of torture. Shitting hell, deny me of my sleep and I’ll tell you everything. Scrap that, I’d even go as far to tell you what you actually wanted to hear, whether it’s the truth or not, just so I could drift back off to dreamland.
I don’t have a clue how I’m going to cope if I ever decide to have kids. Maybe I’ll need to get a nanny. Yes, a nanny is a must. I’ll be no bloody good to them wandering around zombified would I?
I don’t think I really need to worry about the possibility of kids anytime soon though, I kind of don’t have the other half of the required body parts around to make that stuff happen. Right now though, I think that’s the least of my worries.
The one thing that I should be focusing on is what I’m going to say to Matt when he wakes up. Did I regret it? No, not really. Will I feel awkward when I have to face him? One hundred percent, but we’re both adults so hopefully it will be as pain free as possible, said no one; ever.
Melody Grace is my friend. Of course, for all intents and purposes, the girl sat before me is also my work colleague, but firstly and most importantly, she’s my friend.
I don’t know why she still holds that title personally, considering she’s only just got back from sunning herself in Dubai. Little old me, jealous? Not much. Well, tans are so overrated these days. People are crying out for pale, milk bottle coloured skin, dusted with a few freckles here and there. Freckles really get the pasty look on point. At least that’s what I’ve always told myself, anyway.
Do you know that you can now buy transfer freckles for your day to day look? I shit you not, it’s true. All this time I’ve tried to change my look by caking my foundation on when I was a teenager, and now people want to be pale faces. I give up. Honestly, I do.
I guess the saying is true; you always want what you don’t have.
I knew that I’d see her once she arrived back home eventually, because, well, that’s what friends do. What I didn’t expect was to be spending my Monday morning with her at ‘Rachel’s Place’, that’s for sure.
“Mel, you know that you shouldn’t be here,” Rachel whispers disapprovingly as she carefully hands out our lattes. Oh, here we go. She’s always been a swot when it comes to punctuality and conduct. I could never work for her. Actually, scrap that. One day I might be left without much of a choice, but I’d bloody hate every single second of it, I just know it.
“Well, I’m not moving so you may as well fill that hole of yours with a muffin or something if you can’t be quiet.” Dear God. I love them both, really, I do, but they don’t half clash. I guess it’s because they’re too much alike get along or see eye to eye, but no matter what, they’re always here for me when I need them the most.
“She’s right, you know,” I say quietly, whilst being a coward and hiding behind my overly large cup. Yes, I’m a wimp and proud. Mel can be a little hasty at times and I don’t fancy wearing her latte anytime soon. Plus, this Lipsy dress wasn’t cheap. Usually I’d wait until the sales started, but I needed to have it there and then. That’s when me and Mr Plastic were good friends, happily splashing the cash during our honeymoon period. I remember it well.
“Don’t you bloody start,” she warns and gives me one of her certified glaring looks. “I’m here and I’m not moving until something changes. End of. Call it a strike if that makes you feel any better, but us girls have to stick together.”
“Mel…” Both Rachel and I say in unison.
“It’s not important. It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”
“But…” I try my best to continue, but she slams her latte glass down in the most diva-like fashion, even Mariah would be scared for her crown in this moment.
“Listen to me Emily, as soon as Matt called I knew something was up. Matt never calls anyone; like ever. Too much of a snapchatter, that one, but what can you do? After I’d spoken to him, I knew where I needed to be and that’s right here, with you.” Melody looks at me and then she rolls her eyes towards Rachel’s direction. She silences her with one look as soon as Rachel tries to argue back. God, I really wish that one day I’ll be able to master that skill. To be honest though, I’d much rather be hashing it out with George right now, instead of being stuck in the middle of these two.
“What exactly did Matt say to you?” I ask nervously and begin to fiddle with the corners of the menu on the table. It’s the one question that’s been hanging on my tongue since the second she mentioned his name and now it’s bloody slipped out before I could stop it.
“Matt?” Oh my God, holy mother of Jesus. Palpitations begin to hammer in my chest at the mere mention of his name and cold, sticky sweat starts to coat my palms as I wait for Mel to answer me. Why isn’t she answering me?
Oh, God. He’s told her, hasn’t he? He’s only gone and opened that big, fat trap of his. I’m going to kill him when I see him. Maybe that won’t be so easy after all. Luckily for him, I don’t have to face him today, or any day for the foreseeable, when I come to think about it.
“Well?” I ask, hoping to get some kind of answer out of her. I’m bloody going out of my mind here. I spot Rachel eyeing me suspiciously from her seat to my right, her lips pressed into a perfect pout, trying her best to figure out why I’m so keen to know. Well, if they didn’t already know by now that I slut dropped him, they sure as bloody hell do now.
I haven’t mentioned Friday night to anyone. Not Rachel, not Mel, I’ve not even really admitted it out loud to myself. Sooner or later I know that I’m going to have to admit it, I know, but right now I’d rather forget. After all, it’s not like he’s tried to check in on me since. Not even one lousy snapchat.
The bastard.
To be fair, he didn’t really say much to me before he left either. I offered him a coffee to which he politely declined, gave me an awkward and pretty much forced kiss on the cheek and went on his merrily little way, not even bothering to turn back once.
“Nothing all that exciting really. Come on, it’s Matt. The most exciting he gets is a Gregg’s for lunch on a Wednesday.” I think I can beg to differ on that front. But, there’s no reason for me to bring that to their attention. “To be fair, I switched off to his ramblings as soon as he said suspension. You know, I bet Amanda’s got something to do with this.”
And this is why we are friends. We think exactly the same, yet I’m the one to actually sit back and try my best to evaluate the situation instead of running in all guns blazing, unlike this one.
“You know, I won’t lie to you. That did kind of cross my mind too, but something like that would be too easy for her and plus, what’s she really got to gain from seeing me off, really?” Cruella kept going through my head over and
over while I was freezing my arse off on that shitty little park bench, but as easy as it could be to point the finger at her, it just doesn’t seem right. Okay, there’s no denying that we don’t like each other and we only talk when we have to, so why would she want me out? “She’d be right up shit street if that’s the case. Now that I’m not there, wiping everyone’s arses, all the figures that I’ve kept above board are going to drop quicker than her knickers on a Friday night.”
“That’s true. Maybe she sees you as some kind of threat? Either way, it’s got dodgy as shit written all over it. I’ve got a bloody mind to email Graham directly and see what the hell he thinks he’s playing at. And to think I always thought he was a decent guy…”
“Good luck with that.” Rachel pipes up complete with a little miss know it all expression firmly fixed on her face. “What? You know being AWOL is probably one of the biggest forms of gross misconduct that there is, don’t you? I highly doubt they’d suspend you, more like you’d be sacked on the spot.”
“Rachel love, if I want your opinion I’ll ask for it. Right now, I need your coffee’s so snap to it.”
Heartbreak's A Bitch! Page 7