Love Me Like You Do

by Sasha Clinton

  Grant squirmed under his skin. Hadn’t this brand of confrontational feminism gone out of fashion in the seventies?

  Bracing himself for a tough battle, he rolled up his sleeves. Every salary negotiation with Eve always degenerated into something like this.

  “We promoted six women to middle-management last year and recruited our second female board member.” That was his favorite statistic. Because it was the only one. “We’re trying to improve the gender balance at the top. But we can’t promote you just because you’re a woman. That’s not what equality is about.”

  “I’m not asking you to promote me because I’m a woman,” she cried. “I’m asking you to promote me because I’m competent!”

  “That’s your viewpoint. Unfortunately, not everybody shares it.” Grant clapped, to add a sense of finality.

  Stationing her hands on her thighs, Eve met him with a pained gaze. If he had his way, he’d lick the honey in her eyes all the way down to the honey between her legs. That was how obsessed she had him after fifteen minutes of argument.

  God save him, though, because in the last year, he hadn’t fixated on a woman as much as he’d fixated on her. He wanted her more than he wanted the tight asses of more willing women. Eve was long past her prime, both professionally and sexually, and he still had many, many years to go before he had to settle for less-than-attractive women.

  Maybe it’s because she’s forbidden. Maybe that makes her exciting.

  No, he’d never enjoyed the chase. For as long as he could recall, he’d preferred easy women. The hard-to-get ones were generally not worth the effort.

  Unable to reconcile himself to lusting over an aging divorcee with two daughters, Grant shook his legs. “I have to be somewhere in the next half hour. So if you have nothing else to say…”

  “I’ll see myself out,” Eve said, in a clipped voice. Collecting her papers, she stuffed them into her large purse and walked out, head held high.

  Proud until the last moment.

  Just like him.

  *

  Bella ascended the stairs to the third floor of the walk-up where she lived, regret rising in her throat with the altitude.

  Another unsuccessful date. Another lost chance.

  A too-cold whoosh of air from the air conditioner slithered under her halter-neck top as she stepped into her studio apartment. Goosebumps sprouted all over her chest at the sudden drop in temperature.

  Free-falling onto the couch, Bella stared at the empty kitchen, which she needed to clean up before Kat arrived. Shower was pending, too.

  I’ll do it in five minutes, she told herself.

  Looking at her body, she picked her fashion sense apart.

  Maybe she’d looked too desperate. That seemed to be a common problem for her. Or maybe she’d appeared too confident. Sometimes she worried about how good she’d becoming at pretending to be the kind of bold, take-no-shit woman that she really wasn’t.

  No matter how strong and sassy she was on the outside, inside, she was still insecure and scared.

  No, don’t think. You’ll just become depressed.

  Against her will, Bella dragged herself to the bathroom.

  Skipping in for a quick clean-up, she did quick stretches to open up the clenched muscles in her limbs and stomach and looked at herself in the mirror above the basin. It reflected back her red-rimmed eyes. Her eyeshadow had smudged into a dark puddle around her eyes, and black mascara tears were zig-zagging down her cheeks.

  Bella stuck her face under water spraying from the shower head and scrubbed her face.

  And thought about her love life again.

  It now seemed like her vision of a happy future might never materialize. She was thirty-four already. In a few years, she’d lose whatever little beauty she had. Her soulmate should have come into her life.

  Both her best friends had found the love of their lives—Ashley had found love twice—and were heading towards that settled, secure phase in life she wanted to be in. Bella wanted to see them happy, but she was feeling incredibly left out these days. Soon, Ashley would have her first child, and she’d feel even more alienated.

  Hot water soaked into her skin and hair. If only water could soak away these clawing feelings…

  Snap out of it, she scolded herself.

  Compared to five years ago, when she’d been struggling to secure a tenured position, a house and pay back her student debt, she was in a much better place now. She’d almost paid off her student loans, and she was an assistant professor at NYU.

  And she didn’t have an eating disorder anymore.

  Thank goodness for that. Without a doubt, overcoming bulimia was the single greatest accomplishment of her life. Her eyes stung when she let the memories of that part of her life wash over her.

  Every day had been a nightmare when she’d lived with Bryan in LA. Overeating, then trying to purge it. Uncontrollable temptation followed murderous guilt. She’d gotten tired of that cycle—tired of counting calories, tired of beating herself up over a hundred extra calories, tired of smelling her puke, tired of still being overweight.

  But she hadn’t stopped, for the fear of losing Bryan’s love, his approval. Every time she’d wear something that revealed the marginally thinning shoulders and legs she battled for every day, he would compliment her. And that made all the mental torture worth it.

  She’d come close to dying multiple times, but even clinging to life by a thread, she’d never let herself quit. For two or three days, she’d eat normally, then start the cycle all over again.

  Images of Bryan’s house, the way they’d lain curled up together in his bed, him playing her songs, appeared and disappeared. Letting the recollections drift away, Bella curled her lazy eyelids for a nap while the water warmed her skin. Heaven.

  The buzzer bleeped.

  Sometimes, Kat’s extreme punctuality got on her nerves. Seven pm did not mean seven pm. It meant after seven twenty and before seven thirty.

  Shrugging into a bathrobe, Bella tied it around the front. Her damp hair pitter-pattered all over the hardwood floor, leaving a trail to the door.

  “You’re early.” She made a mildly-annoyed-at-your-punctuality face at Kat, who was wearing a dress in an electrifying shade of orange.

  Thin, toned legs stuck out from under the high hem. Kat’s waist had shrunk another inch.

  “No, I’m exactly on time.” Kat waved the digital watch strapped over her wrist, looking extra-sulky, even for a Wednesday. “Were you having a shower?”

  “I’ll throw something on ASAP. There’s organic orange juice in the fridge. Help yourself.”

  Dashing to her room, Bella opted for a no-fuss ensemble of shorts and a tank-top. As a rule of thumb, she didn’t wear anything this revealing around people. Her legs and arms were her biggest points of insecurity. But with Kat, it should be alright.

  Back in the kitchen, Kat was regarding the groceries she’d bought this morning. Bella spotted giant creases between Kat’s eyebrows.

  “Why do you look like some pervert grabbed your ass on the subway?” she asked.

  Kat fiddled with the oven’s settings. “Because that happened.”

  “Shit. You reported it, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to forget about it.” Tidying up the cans of soup on the countertop, Kat followed her usual stress-relief ritual of going overboard with cleaning. “You need to buy a rice cooker, Bell. And when was the last time you vacuumed around here? I can see dust bunnies under the table.”

  Bella seized an orange from the fruit bowl. “A month, maybe two.”

  In reality, it had been three weeks, but a little exaggeration here and there could work in her favor, considering Kat’s mood.

  “I’ve told you a million times. If you don’t vacuum every week, you’ll create more work for yourself in the long run.” Kat untangled the cord of the vacuum cleaner and plugging it in, filled Bella’s apartment with a loud, electrical buzz. The black head swept over the dust bunnies
, swallowing them and leaving a clean, shiny floor.

  Bella smiled. Having Kat over saved her the trouble of hiring a cleaner every time. Yeah, she took advantage of her nice friends sometimes, but so did Kat, every time she needed someone to use as bait to get stories.

  “Everybody in the world needs a bestie like you,” she said to herself, knowing Kat wouldn’t be able to hear her over the droning noise.

  “You say something?” Kat bent the head under the table, under the couch and into the hard-to-get corners of her house that frankly, Bella never bothered with.

  Digging her nails into the fleshy skin of the orange, Bella made a cut with her nail and peeled it back. She crossed her legs on the couch, away from where she could obstruct Kat, and put a single crescent of orange in her mouth, chewing it and spitting out the seeds on her palm.

  Fifteen minutes later, Kat stored the vacuum cleaner in the same place she’d taken it from. Such a perfectionist.

  “Thanks for cleaning my apartment. I appreciate it.”

  The microwave beeped, indicating that the quinoa was done.

  “I’m doing it for myself, not for you.” Restless, Kat hurried to check if the quinoa was cooked. “Five more minutes.”

  “Are you really okay with what happened on the subway?”

  “It’s not the first time. I’ll recover.” True, Kat had endured far worse—such as an almost rape—but sometimes it was okay to vent and be angry, rather than controlling emotions. “Ashley’s sorry she couldn’t make it tonight, but there’s good news. The doctor said it’s a girl.”

  “Can they tell so soon?” Bella inquired, something acidic and repulsive spiraling in her stomach.

  It wasn’t jealousy. Jealousy burned. This was just...emptiness.

  Nodding, Kat’s mouth pushed up in a wide grin. “Aren’t you excited? I’m so happy for her. She’s wanted a baby for so long.”

  “Yeah, it’s great. I’ll have to remember to send her a text.” Keen to divert from the topic of Ashley’s pregnancy, Bella turned to the benign subject of Kat’s boyfriend. “How’s Alex?”

  “Busy. He has to go to Albany next week.”

  “Still meeting him on weekends?”

  “Trying to.” Unconsciously, Kat rubbed her wrists. “He wanted to take me to dinner tonight.”

  “And you said no?”

  Kat nodded.

  “Are you crazy? Alex is the love of your life. If he says dinner, you go to dinner. Where are your priorities in life, girl?”

  Kat tipped her head up. “But...but I promised to help you make quinoa salad, and you bought all the stuff. I couldn’t bail last minute.”

  “Alex is more important than your plans with me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Sometimes she worried for Kat. How could she prioritize anything else over spending time with her boyfriend?

  If it was her, Bella would’ve canceled everything immediately to spend the night with Alex. Dating the mayor of New York City was a challenge in itself, but throw in a hectic job and it was wonder how Kat and Alex were still together. It was their third year together this year, but it was getting tougher for them with every passing year.

  Next year Alex would be running for re-election, and they’d have to deal with all the stress that something like that brought into a relationship.

  Kat sewed her brows together.

  “That’s not right, Bell. You’re as important to me as he is.” It could be a trick of the light, but Kat’s red hair seemed to glow brighter. “I’m not sacrificing our friendship for Alex’s sake. He can deal with spending time alone. He probably has enough work to catch up on.”

  Laying the heel of her hand on the counter, Bella inclined herself backward. “If you keep rejecting him, he’ll leave you.”

  Just like Bryan had left her. Every time she was unavailable, he’d flirt with another woman, get closer to someone else, and maybe those little moments had added up at the end. That could happen to Kat, too. That could happen to anyone.

  Kat raised her chin confidently. “He can’t. He’s too hopelessly in love with me.” Peeling the outer layers of an onion, she slit it into halves with a swift chop of the knife. “And if he does, I’ll still have you, right?”

  “You...” She pulled Kat’s bony body into a hug. Startled, Kat dropped the knife on the cutting board. “You’re too loyal for your own good.”

  Despite being generally averse to cuddling, Kat didn’t rumple her face when Bella smeared tears all over Kat’s collarbone.

  Free cleaning, free food, and loyalty. What more could she ask for? She might have the worst luck when it came to men, but lady luck was super kind to her in matters of friendship.

  “I can’t make out if you’re being sarcastic or nice,” Kat teased.

  “Of course I’m being nice.” Bella gave Kat some breathing room and gave herself some space, too, fanning her eyes.

  “Sorry, I got a bit emotional there. My date today didn’t go so well,” Bella said.

  “It’s okay. There’s somebody better for you out there,” Kat assured, the smell of the onions making her eyes red and watery, too.

  “I don’t know about that.” Scratching her chin with a pensive look, Bella sighed.

  Alarm flitted over Kat’s face.

  “I’m starting to lose hope,” Bella said. “I mean; I want it so badly. I want someone who loves me. I’ve never wished for anything else but that. Why can’t I even have one simple thing?”

  “Bell, you need to get over this mindset that having a man is everything.” Green eyes burning bright, Kat squared her gaze. “You don’t need anyone. You’re good on your own. You can be happy alone.”

  Alone. Even that word was depressing. Maybe Kat, who had lots of hobbies and a reliable family to take care of her should something happen, could accept that kind of life, but she couldn’t. Her sister was God knew where, and her mom was never sober enough to remember her name. If her life crumbled someday, she’d have nobody and nothing to fall back on. Feeding cats, playing the piano, and reading books didn’t qualify as a secure back-up plan. Having a ring on her finger did.

  “Tell me how you did it. Tell me how Ashley did it. How did you two manage to find such handsome, successful, faithful men in this city?”

  “Simple. We didn’t try.” Kat clamped her teeth shut.

  “That’s not an option for me. I’m too old to sit back.”

  “You’re not old. Actually, I have a great idea. Why don’t you take a break from this finding-a-soulmate business for a month? Don’t meet new guys for a month. Do something else. Focus on yourself. Travel around the world.”

  “Write my own eat, pray, love, you mean?” Bella angled her head to the left, considering it.

  Not a bad idea. Millions of love stories started with a chance meeting in some exotic city. New York might not be the greatest city to date, but who said she had to stay here? The One could be waiting for her in Bali, Florence, Paris...or even St. Petersburg.

  Currently, she was on summer break, which was the perfect opportunity to take a vacation. Kat’s suggestion couldn’t possibly have come at a better time. With her savings, she could easily book a one-month Europe or Asia tour and be gone by the end of the week.

  “Not writing eat, pray, love but eat, pray, travel. Remember you won’t be looking for love. You’ll be focusing on yourself.”

  “Oh, whatever.”

  “I’m serious. I think you need to broaden your horizons a little. You’ve been stuck in the dating pool for too long. As you say, it’s not so great out there. So take a break from that toxicity. Even if you don’t want to travel, there’s a lot you can do. Sign up for an acting class. Or meditation. Actually, I’m doing that. You can sign up with me if you want.”

  Bella grimaced. “I don’t want to meditate. I like the travel the world idea more. Lots of women find husbands abroad. One of my colleagues met her fiancé in Latvia.”

  “Okay, so traveling is a bad idea. You’re just going to be lookin
g for exotic men abroad.” Kat stuck a spoon into the bowl of quinoa salad and spooned some onto two plates.

  “And what’s wrong with that? I know you love me, but you don’t understand me. All I want is love. Cuddles, hugs, someone who cares about me and makes me laugh. Even if I go to meditation class, I’m gonna be looking at the cutest guy in class instead of meditating.”

  “Fine. Do whatever you want,” Kat always gave up with the same line, “here’s your dinner.”

  As soon as Bella’s tongue touched Kat’s quinoa salad, she was in heaven. “It’s awesome. I could eat this all day.”

  “Eat, pray, love,” Kat said, sarcastically.

  Yeah.

  Eat, pray, find love.

  Chapter 4

  Ten p.m. was really late to be visiting a woman who wasn’t his mother, sister, girlfriend, or a hooker. It was a ridiculous hour to show up unannounced at the apartment of a woman he’d only met that morning.

  Even if, by some stroke of luck, Bella didn’t call the cops, she’d definitely kick him out. Or use that taser she’d been threatening him with.

  But his greatest fear was no longer humiliation. It was failing. Troubled Domesticity had to get made and it had to air. The world needed this show. American television needed this show. He was willing to go to any length to ensure that the studio’s money and his months of labor saw the light of day.

  According to his investigation, the pre-war walk-up he now approached was where Bella Hopkins lived.

  Since the building had no doorman, and someone had left the door open, he stepped in easily.

  The wood was chipping off the banister of the staircase and the stairs were worn by the grind of many pairs of shoes. He inhaled mac n cheese, paint, and burning food on the way up. Surely, a college professor could afford a better place. Maybe she was skimping on rent so she could save up to buy her own place in a few years.