by La Jill Hunt
Chapter Twenty
I woke up to the sound of a doorbell ringing. At first, I was confused and unsure of where I was, until I closed my eyes and bits and pieces of the night before began to fill my head: drinking at Chubb’s, kissing in the back of Josh’s truck, and being dropped off by the bartender, who had helped us stumble onto the elevator just before giving Josh his keys and telling us an Uber was waiting for him and we were on our own. Then, more kissing and groping on the elevator ride, and finally getting to Josh’s apartment, where we didn’t waste any time taking off our clothes as soon as we got inside the door.
“Your fucking body is amazing,” I remembered saying as I ran my fingers along his chiseled chest and down his washboard abs.
“No, you are fucking amazing,” he said, snatching my bra off, cupping my full breasts in his hands, and kissing my neck.
I remembered him pinning me against the hallway wall and moaning as his fingers entered my throbbing wetness, and then we were on the cold, hard floor, where I lay back as he sucked and licked my sticky sweetness until I couldn’t take it anymore, screaming out his name as I climaxed from the pleasure of his tongue. I don’t know when we went into his bedroom, but I know that when we got into his bed, the sex we had was hot, passionate, loud, and satisfying.
Again, there was the sound of a doorbell ringing. I opened my eyes and rolled over in the bed. Josh wasn’t there. I heard his voice coming down the hallway.
“Who is it?”
I couldn’t hear who answered on the other side until the door opened.
“What the hell is going on? I’ve been waiting since five-thirty, and I’ve been calling you for an hour,” a female voice said, full of attitude.
“Shit, my bad. What time is it?” Josh groaned.
“It’s damn near seven o’clock. Oh my God, Josh. Are you hung over? Were you drunk?” she demanded to know.
“I had a couple of drinks. My bad. I forgot,” he mumbled.
I quickly sat up and scanned the room for my clothes, but they weren’t anywhere to be found. The last place I remembered having them was the hallway. I scrambled out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around me, praying that whoever this chick was, she didn’t see my belongings.
“I can’t believe you. Do you know how pissed I am right now? I could’ve—”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll give you a call later today.”
I heard the door closing, and I felt horrible—not only because I was hung over and nauseated, but also because I was embarrassed. I had gotten drunk and slept with my boss. Well, technically he was my boss’s son since it was his mother who paid me, but still, it was inappropriate and unprofessional. The only thing that made me feel slightly better about the situation was the fact that I vaguely recalled a brief conversation about condoms and Josh reaching into his drawer and taking one out. So, at least the sex was protected.
“Good morning.” He walked back into the room, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts.
“Good morning,” I responded, avoiding eye contact while trying not to stare at his sexy-ass body at the same time.
“Sorry about that. My, uh, that was my neighbor. I was supposed to meet her in the—”
I held up my hand and said, “No need to explain. It’s all good. I’m just trying to get myself together right quick.”
“Are you okay? I mean, how are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay. I, uh, I need my clothes,” I mumbled. “Have you seen my phone?”
“Your clothes are out there.” He pointed toward the hallway. “I can get them for you. I haven’t seen your phone. You want some coffee or water? I got some juice or Gatorade.”
“No, just my clothes,” I said, wrapping the sheet a little tighter.
He walked out and a few seconds later came back with my clothes in hand. “Here you go. I didn’t see your phone out there. Sorry. But I did see your keys and wallet.”
I took the clothes from him and said, “Where’s your restroom?”
“Right through there.” He pointed. “You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“There’s towels and washcloths in the small closet to the left,” he told me.
I quickly walked into the bathroom, holding the sheet around my body as tightly as possible. Clicking on the light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrible. Not only was my hair standing all over my head, but there were several bruises on my neck and chest. I sat on the commode and saw that there were even small bruises on my inner thighs and calves where, apparently, Josh’s hands had gripped them. Damn, I thought, that shit must’ve been incredible.
I took a quick shower and tried to tame my hair the best I could, then slipped my clothes on. When I came out, Josh wasn’t in the bedroom. He had gotten dressed and was standing in his living room, watching Sports Center on his huge-ass TV and drinking a Powerade.
“Can I use your phone?” I asked. “I need to call an Uber. The floors are being put in today, so I need to get going.”
“Zen, you don’t need to do that. I can take you to get your car,” he said.
“You don’t have to, really—”
“Come on,” he said, finishing the rest of his juice and grabbing his keys off the table. My wallet and the keys to my car were sitting on the same table, but my phone was still missing.
We rode the elevator to the parking garage of his building. For a second, I stopped, and he turned and looked at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“How do you know where your truck is?” I asked.
He held up his phone and said, “Find My Car app.”
The app led us straight to his truck, and we drove in silence to the house, where my car was still parked out front. He had barely put the car in park before I thanked him and hopped out.
I had just gotten into my car when I heard tapping on my window. Josh stood smiling, holding my phone.
“Where did you find it?” I asked, rolling down the window and taking it from him.
“On the floor in the back, under the seat. You must’ve dropped it.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
“Well, I’ll see you later I guess,” he said nonchalantly.
My phone began ringing, and I saw that it was Bailey. I knew she must’ve been worried sick, especially since I hadn’t come home the night before. I looked at Josh and said, “I gotta take this. Thanks again.” Then, without waiting for a response, I answered the call. “Hey, Bailey.”
“Girl, what the hell is going on?”
I made sure Josh had moved away from my car before I answered her. “Bailey, I fucked up. Like, really fucked up.”
“How? What happened?”
“You’re not going to believe this. Hell, I can’t believe this,” I told her.
“Are you still with Josh?” she asked.
“Wait, how did you know I was with him?”
“You both drunk-dialed me from your phone. You made him ask permission to take you home.” She laughed. “Once I found out that neither one of you was driving, I was cool with it.”
“Shit, I don’t even remember that,” I admitted.
“What do you remember?” she asked. “Did anything memorable happen? Do tell.”
“I’m on my way home. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Can you leave work?”
“For this? Hell, yeah. See you in a few,” she said.
* * *
I was laying across my bed, wishing my growing headache would go away and contemplating whether a batch of chocolate chip pancakes would help more than the two Aleve I’d just taken. Bailey walked through the door carrying a tray of drinks and a bag from Starbucks.
“Hey, bestie.” She smiled. “I brought you a latte and a bagel.”
“Really?” I sat up. “You actually brought me coffee and carbs? You must already know how bad I fucked up.”
“You’re really gonna have to give me the details and tell me everything that happened.”
She sat on the bed beside me and passed me a cup.
I took a long sip and told her everything I could remember, even pointing out the hickeys on my neck. By the time I finished, I could see her amusement.
“I’m glad this is so entertaining for you,” I said, taking the bagel out of the bag and biting it.
“You’re so damn dramatic, Zen. You haven’t told me anything you did that was fucked up. You got drunk and you had sex. That shit happens all the damn time. Was it consensual? Did you want to fuck him?”
I glanced over at her. “Yeah, I did. But isn’t that ironic? The last guy I worked with who came on to me was unwarranted and cost me my job. And here I am screwing the next guy I’m working for. If that’s not fucked up, then I don’t know what is.”
“It’s not fucked up, Zen. You wanted some dick, you needed some dick, you got some dick. What happened between you and Josh was nothing more than what happened that weekend we went to Cabo junior year,” Bailey reminded me. “What was that guy’s name again?”
“Terry, I think. Or was it Tony?” For a second I was amused, remembering that wild weekend, but I was an adult now, and that kind of behavior was not in my best interests if I wanted to build a career. “But this is different. I haven’t seen Terry or Tony or whatever since that weekend, but I have to see Josh, at least until the house is done. And then his girlfriend showed up at his door.” I sighed.
Bailey’s eyes widened. “Did he say she was his girlfriend?”
“Well, no, he said it was his neighbor. But it’s the same chick I overheard him talking to on the phone, and I know they’re fucking,” I told her.
“But you don’t know for sure that it’s his girl.”
“This whole thing is just messed up all the way around. I should not have slept with him. Now shit is gonna be awkward between us. It already was when he took me to get my car. He was mad quiet and was so . . . uncomfortable.”
“Maybe you should talk about what happened.”
“Hell, no. I wasn’t about to bring it up, and I’m not going to. I’m gonna pretend like it never happened,” I told her. In that moment, flashes of Josh and me rolling naked in his bed popped into my head. I shook it away.
My phone rang. It was Georgette. I thought about ignoring her call but didn’t want to risk pissing her off. I answered nervously. “Hello?”
“Zen, good morning. Are you at the house?”
“Um, no, ma’am. Not yet. I’ll be headed over that way in a little while. Is everything okay? Did you need something?”
“I talked to Josh, and he told me what happened,” she said, and I swear it felt like my heart stopped beating for a second.
I felt the nausea from that morning returning. I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Oh, he did? I . . . we . . .”
“Yes, you and he finished painting the downstairs just in time. He seemed quite pleased with the job you guys did. I think he’s coming around. I was a little nervous when Jose became ill, but he was right when he told me you would be able to handle everything. I’ll have another check for you next week.”
“Thank you so much, Georgette. I’m just glad we were able to get it done too,” I told her, feeling my panic subside slightly.
“Well, either I can meet you somewhere and give you the check, or I can give it to Josh.”
“I can meet you and get it. It’s no problem,” I said hurriedly.
“Well, it’s up to you. Let me check my schedule and see what day works best for me,” she said.
We made plans to meet the following week. I took another shower, changed clothes, and went back to the house just in time to meet the installers with the floors. It took the entire day for them to be put in, and I kept wondering if Josh was going to show up, but that never happened. When I checked in with Caldwell, I waited for him to mention Josh’s name, but he didn’t.
Later, while I was lying in bed, I scolded myself for even thinking about sending him a text. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t get him out of my head? It wasn’t just the sex that I kept thinking about; it was also the things he had shared while we were drinking. The hurt, the betrayal, the heartbreak: it was all too familiar. Despite him looking like he had it all together, his life was just as much a mess as mine was, and something about that drew me to him.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You are doing an incredible job, Zen,” Georgette said. We were at the same Starbucks, sitting at the same table where we had originally met nearly a month ago. “Josh sent me pictures of what’s been done so far. The floors look amazing, and so do the walls. I can’t wait to see the finished product.”
I tried to act nonchalant, but I was surprised to hear that he had sent her pictures of the floors, since I hadn’t seen or talked to him in over a week; not since he dropped me off at my car. It was clear that he was avoiding me as much as I had been avoiding him.
“Yes, things are coming along great. I’m glad that you and Josh are satisfied,” I said, trying to focus on her and not the thoughts of Josh that were distracting me.
She handed me the check, and I put it in my purse without looking at it. I had no doubt that it was the same amount that she had given me last time, and I was fine with that.
“So, do you think everything will be finished by the thirtieth of next month?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not. Is that when you want to list it?”
“List it? That house isn’t being sold. That was Ephraim’s pride and joy, and he and his father worked hard to build it,” she said with certainty. Then, with tears in her eyes, she said, “Ephraim’s birthday is the thirtieth of next month, and I would like to host a party there in his honor.”
I reached across the table and said, “I understand, and I think that’s a beautiful idea.”
“Thank you, Zen. I appreciate you and all of your hard work, and so does Josh.” She smiled.
I wasn’t so sure if her son appreciated me as much as she thought he did, but I wasn’t about to say that to her.
After we parted ways, I sat in my car and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I thought about the date that Georgette had talked about. It was a date that I had been dreading for months. The thirtieth of next month. It was the date that I had anticipated my baby being born, had I still been pregnant. My due date that now would never happen.
I got myself together and headed over to the house. I was inspecting the work they had started doing in the kitchen when Josh walked in the front door. He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
“Oh, hey,” he said awkwardly.
“H . . . hey.” My voice was shaky, and I had to clear my throat.
“I thought you were meeting my mother for coffee,” he said.
“I did.”
“Oh, okay. Well, uh, how’ve you been?”
“Good, and you?”
“I’m good,” he said. “The kitchen is coming along nice.”
“Yeah, they’re doing a great job. We’re actually ahead of schedule, believe it or not.” I couldn’t believe we were standing here making small talk like we hadn’t been rolling around naked together just a few weeks ago.
“What about the upstairs bathrooms?” he asked, continuing our effort to avoid the uncomfortable and embarrassing truth.
“Almost finished.”
Breaking the strained mood a little, he gave me a comical look and asked, “What kind of shower head did you get?”
I shook my head and said, “One that makes the water beat on your chest.”
“You better not have,” he said and headed up the stairs with me following behind. When he walked into the master bathroom, he exclaimed, “Oh, wow.”
I could tell by the look on his face that he liked what I had decided to do in the master bathroom. When I had told Caldwell what I wanted to do at first, he balked, but eventually, he gave in. The shower was tiled in mosaic stone and had a spa feel to it. I had taken a chance, and it paid off, because it turned out better
than I expected.
“And it has a detachable head,” I said with a wink, surprising myself. His enthusiasm for the design had me feeling a little more relaxed, I guess.
Josh laughed and turned to me. “Zen, this is incredible. You really did the damn thing in this bathroom.”
“Thanks. I’m really glad you like it.”
“I really do.” He looked down at me, and our eyes met. I could feel the connection with him that I hadn’t felt until that night at Chubb’s. I was drawn to him.
“You are amazing,” he said. Apparently, he was drawn to me too.
He took a step closer to me, and I waited for my nerves to kick in, but they didn’t. I anticipated his touch, and when I felt his fingers touching my cheek, I didn’t pull away.
“This house is special, Josh,” I told him.
“You are—”
“Hello? Josh?” A female voice drifted up the stairs. It was the same voice I’d heard that morning at his apartment. He looked at me for a second, and then his hand dropped. I stepped away from him, now realizing that the reason he had come to the house was because he thought I would still be with his mother. He hadn’t expected me to be there, especially since his girlfriend was coming.
“Zen, wait,” he said as I turned and walked out of the bathroom.
“Josh, are you upstairs?” the female yelled.
I could hear her climbing the stairs, and by the time I made it into the hallway, she was there. I stopped, and we stared at one another for a moment. There was something familiar about her. I knew her from somewhere but couldn’t place her at first.
“Zen?” she asked, looking surprised.
I stared at her, dressed in form-fitting designer jeans, a cute top, and a pair of heels that I had been eying for the past two weeks at Zara. Her flawless makeup only accentuated her perfect image. I could tell that her hair weave had easily cost her eight hundred dollars. In her hand was a Balmain bag. This chick had money and plenty of it. I had already assumed that she did, based on the fact that she lived in Josh’s building, but now it was confirmed. I suddenly felt self-conscious about the oversized white button-down I wore, along with my baggy jeans and paint-covered Nikes. I rubbed my hand over the wild, top-knot ponytail that I wore daily.