Olivia and George hooked up just a few months ago, not long after the shit hit the fan for Iris. They met at the magazine Olivia wrote for. It started as one of those forbidden workplace love affairs. Olivia was an arts and entertainment reporter and George had just started as an editor on the news desk. For them, it was a textbook case of insta-love, or rather insta-lust. For a while, they tried to keep it a secret, but everyone already seemed to know. They were still in that honeymoon phase of their relationship where they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. They were constantly at it—day and night. From the sounds of it, the sex was good, frequent, sloppy and loud. Hearing them together made Iris ache with loneliness. It had been such a long time since she’d been intimate with anyone—too long. Iris felt a ball of jealousy swell in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the happy couple fucking the night away.
Misty rubbed against Iris’ leg and startled her out of her trance-like state. She sighed and stumbled into the kitchen. When she turned the overhead light on, the fluorescent bulbs flickered and a giant cockroach scurried for cover. It was a small, cramped space, just like everything else in the apartment. The counters were cluttered with second-rate appliances Olivia had picked up at various yard sales and thrift stores. The stove had only one working burner. The cabinets and counters, worn and grubby from years of use, were covered with a sticky residue that never seemed to go away no matter how hard you scrubbed. Still, this was New York City, and if you were on a budget, this was all you could afford. The next cheapest option would be sleeping in the subway stations. Iris was young. She was smart and educated. She had her health and her entire future ahead of her. She should feel lucky and yet she didn’t.
Iris grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and walked over to the rickety dining table perched near the window. Misty followed Iris and jumped on the table as she peered out of the soot and grime-infested window at the alley below. The moon shone bright and a few lights illuminated the narrow corridor. There were some dumpsters at the end and several rusty trash cans filled with garbage. Some of the canisters, however, were toppled. Their contents were on full display, roughly strewn on the ground. While the spoils had clearly already been picked through, a hopeful and lone rat could be seen taking a turn at rummaging through the remains, looking for something to eat. Disappointed by what was left, the rat scuttled away, its tail looking deflated, or so Iris thought.
“I know how you feel little buddy…” she mumbled softly, slouching into a nearby chair that was just about ready to collapse. She could only imagine what would have happened if she still had on her Freshman 15. That was one thing about being young, near homeless and under-employed, you had all the time in the world to get in shape.
Taking up running was one of the few good choices Iris had made in her life since graduating from college. Running helped clear her head and she needed that now. Running was her catharsis. It was like therapy for her.
Every day like clockwork, she’d suit up, which meant she’d throw on some leggings, grab a hoodie and lace up her tennies. She’d crank up the music on her Mp3 to block out the rest of the world and distract her from her own thoughts, and then she’d hit the pavement. She always ran the same five mile route along the path circling Central Park. While only the left side of her earbuds still worked, she knew that having one that worked was better than having nothing at all. She needed to be able to milk her current setup for all it was worth because there was no way that she could afford anything else.
Her life had seriously gone to shit over the last several months—ever since she caught Kaleb, her fiancé of five years, cheating on her with Sabrina Lockwood, one of her former classmates. In fact, it was Iris who introduced Sabrina to Kaleb and she even invited her over to their house for dinner. Wow, what a mistake that was. And in some kind of weird twist of fate, Kaleb managed to retain ownership of the house they bought together and he convinced Iris to move out of their home so Sabrina could move in. Oh, and Kaleb also kept custody of their dog, Dexter. Life was unimaginably cruel sometimes.
It was not so long ago that everyone thought she had the perfect life and so did she. Kaleb was the perfect boyfriend and she and Kaleb had what looked was the perfect relationship. Kaleb never forgot Friday night date night. He always made breakfast on Saturdays and on Sundays they read The New York Times together. She and Kaleb were so rock solid that they even bought a cute house together in the burbs and got a dog.
So, what happened? How did she not see this coming? Now all of her friends just felt sorry for her. She knew they gossiped and whispered behind her back. She wasn’t even sure if most of them were her friends anymore. She felt like Olivia was the only true friend she could still trust. Ever since high school, Olivia had been her staunchest supporter and most trusted ally. Olivia always had her back. Thank God for friends like Olivia.
She still felt queasy at the thought of how it all went down. They say when you break up with someone, there are five stages of grief you need to work through to get over them. At first, she experienced denial. She couldn’t believe it was happening to her. Then there was anger. She wanted to gouge Kaleb’s eyes out with a rusty spoon. She eventually moved on to bargaining and depression, but sometimes she felt herself slip back into anger. She was still feeling vulnerable and raw. They also say you need to give yourself at least a month to grieve for every year you were in the relationship. And so if that were the case, she could expect to remain in a funk for at least two more freaking months.
She wasn’t sure how she let it all happen and why she didn’t fight more to keep what was rightfully half hers. She replayed parts of their relationship in her head over and over again, looking for clues that could help her understand why and how this happened to her. If only she’d been more observant, maybe she could’ve avoided this outcome. If only she’d known not to let that home-wrecking bitch into her life, maybe Kaleb never would have thought of cheating.
Sometimes when she was feeling especially dark, sad and sorry for herself, she’d wonder if it was her all along and not him. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if she’d been a better girlfriend. Maybe he wouldn’t have cheated if she had sex with him more often. Maybe if she was willing to be more experimental in bed. Maybe she just wasn’t good in bed. Maybe she was a lousy fuck. She’d spiral through the entire roster of questions and self-loathing again. Each time though, she’d arrive at the same conclusion: Who the hell knows how and why Kaleb did what he did. Ultimately, she just felt foolish. How could she have been so blind? How did she not realize Kaleb was a lying cheating bastard?
She’d never been one to be overly confident, always more of a follower than a leader. She usually just did whatever Kaleb wanted and for the most part that worked out. So when she walked in on Kaleb and Sabrina while they were fucking in her bed, she was devastated. It was like the wheels were already set in motion by some kind of invisible force and she didn’t have any control over what happened next. All she could do was watch in horror as her life veered violently off script.
Iris slammed her fist on the table in such a fury that Misty hissed at her and ran away. She walked back to the kitchen and opened the drawer above the cabinet next to the fridge. She rummaged through its contents, a random and chaotic collection of miscellaneous things. “C’mon, there’s got to be a pen in here somewhere…” She grumbled, sifting through dead batteries, rubber bands, letter openers, plastic forks, and of course, stretched-out hair elastics.
She eventually found a chewed-up, ballpoint pen. She grabbed a paper napkin and scribbled on it to test the ink. To her relief, the pen worked. She grabbed a few more napkins and went back to the table. She sat down and closed her eyes as she tried to remember what her old life looked like. When she opened her eyes, she let her hand wander across the paper as she tried to draw from her memories.
There was a red brick walkway, a small garden in the front yard and flower boxes lining the window sills. The house was grey with black trim
. There was a stout brick chimney that sprouted from the far side of the house. There were big picture windows in both the front and back of the house that let in the morning and afternoon sun. The house was far from perfect and needed work, but she loved everything about it including the large broken thermostat on the wall to the left of the door. It really was a hideous monstrosity, but she loved it anyways. But what she loved most about the house was the big somber looking yellow knocker on the bright red door. She refused to install a doorbell, so that everyone who visited had to use the knocker instead.
But none of this mattered anymore—not the flower boxes, not the garden, not the knocker and not even the malfunctioning thermostat. All she had left was a crumbled-up paper napkin with crude drawings of broken memories. She cringed at the sight of her primitive depictions. How had her life been destroyed so quickly? Frustrated, she shredded the paper and threw the small pieces onto the table, but they were weightless and fluttered to the floor instead. She ceremoniously stood up and ground the tiny pieces of paper into the floor with the bottoms of her feet.
She didn’t want to think about her cheating fiancé, or the cute little house in the suburbs she used to call home. She couldn’t even bring herself to think of Dexter without tearing up. She’d raised Dexter from the time he was a puppy. He was her constant companion and now he was gone. In some ways she was more pissed off about losing Dexter than she was about losing Kaleb or the house. Her heart ached as she desperately wished she could forget it all, but she couldn’t. The wound to her heart was too deep and raw.
She trudged back to the living room and collapsed onto the lumpy couch. She pulled the thin blanket over her shoulders and closed her eyes. In the end, she didn’t eat the apple and Misty never came back.
Outside, the morning was just getting started. The orange and pink-hued sky stretched across the horizon as the sun was just starting to make its appearance for the day. Neighbors were running showers. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted over from the apartment across the hall. Activity was beginning to pick up in the street. Cars rumbled, telephones rang and espresso machines gurgled. These were the sights, sounds and smells of the city waking up and getting ready for the day. All of this made Iris feel extremely small and insignificant in the world.
From the next room, Iris heard a long, drawn-out and satisfied sigh. Olivia and George had finally finished their business. Iris curled up tighter on the couch. She yearned for a warm embrace or a tender touch.
CHAPTER TWO
OLIVIA WAS FEELING GOOD when she emerged from the bedroom. She’d just gotten out of the shower and looked remarkably perky and fresh after last night’s rigorous romp with George. Her skin was rosy pink and a few beads of water were still visible on her collarbone. She looked over at the living room and saw her friend huddled in a mass on the couch looking like a small injured animal. At some time in the wee hours of the morning, Iris eventually did manage to fall asleep. Her body was curled into a tight ball and her feet poked out from under the thin blanket. Olivia did her best not to wake Iris as she made her to the kitchen.
Olivia carefully measured out scoop after scoop of coffee and poured water into the coffee machine. While she waited for it to brew, she went back to the living room to check on Iris again. She frowned at the sight of her friend. She knew Iris was going through a difficult time and wanted to help her, but didn’t know how. Olivia gently placed another blanket over Iris’s small body and watched over her as she slept.
Before she could dwell on the situation for too long, George appeared in the hall. He was bare-chested, wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. God, he was gorgeous. His hair was tussled from their night together, but it didn’t look messy. It just looked sexy. “Sleep well?” He asked. George walked over to his girlfriend and leaned in for a kiss.
“Yeah. But I can’t say the same for Iris.” Olivia whispered and nodded in her friend’s direction. “I’m really worried for her. I know she’s going through such a hard time…”
“It’s temporary. Things will get better for her.” George reassured her. He wrapped his arms around Olivia’s waist and drew her into him so he could nuzzle her damp hair.
“Still… I wish I could do something.” Olivia nibbled at her bottom lip and returned to the kitchen where she absentmindedly poured herself a cup of coffee. She forgot to add sweetener and so when she took a sip of the bitter brew, she almost spat it out.
“Why don’t you invite her to the exhibition later tonight?” George offered. He grabbed a loaf of bread from the top of the fridge and popped a couple of slices into the toaster for their breakfast.
“You mean at the art gallery?”
““You’re covering it for the magazine and you get a plus one. It’s the perfect opportunity for her to get out of the house.”
I don’t know if she’ll be up for it.” Olivia sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “She was never a big fan of art.”
“But at least it’ll get her out of the house. It doesn’t hurt to ask. It would probably be good for her to be around people.”
“You’re probably right, dear” Olivia replied.
Olivia joined George at the table. He watched her slowly butter her toast before surgically removing the crust with a knife. George marveled at her odd bread-eating ritual.
“Does your OCD affect every aspect of your life?” he asked.
Olivia shrugged. “That’s why my copy is so clean and all of the editors love working with me.” She scrunched up her nose at him and added, “Isn’t that one of the reasons why you love me?”
“I suppose.” George smirked. He loved that she could spot a grammatical mistake a mile away. They really were an odd and quirky couple.
When Iris eventually woke, her eyes were red and puffy from her fitful slumber. She looked miserable. Her skin, once a beautiful and healthy peach color, was now dull and held a grayish hue. Her lips were cracked, colorless and pressed into a permanent frown. Her clothes were rumpled and unwashed. She could’ve been homeless person or an escapee from a mental institution. Olivia’s heart ached just looking at her friend.
“Good morning, dear. There’s some coffee in the pot for you.”
Iris mumbled a greeting and looked toward the kitchen but ignored the offer. She didn’t feel like coffee just yet. Under her feet, Misty suddenly materialized, rubbing against her legs, purring loudly. As if on autopilot, Iris reached into the cabinet and pulled out a can of cat food.
“Oh. You don’t have to do that. I was just about to feed her.” Olivia stood and offered to take the can from her, but Iris shook her head.
“It’s fine. It gives me something to do,” Iris mumbled.
Olivia kept a watchful eye on Iris as she carefully scooped food from the can onto a saucer for Misty before setting it down on the floor. The cat meowed gratefully before chowing down. Iris lifted her arms over her head and stretched. Her back cracked and her bones creaked as she straightened herself out. Sleeping on an old couch for almost a month now was starting to take its toll.
“Speaking of things to do. I’m leading an art exhibition this evening for work. I’m allowed to bring a plus one. Do you want to come?” Olivia asked brightly, hoping her friend would say yes.
“Why don’t you take George?” Iris answered reflexively. She leaned against the counter, and purposely avoided making eye contact with her friend.
She itched and wished she could shed her skin like a snake. She scratched at her arms, legs and back hoping to get rid of the crawling sensation, but the itch just got worse, which made her scratch even more. All she managed to accomplish was to make her body red and raw before she finally gave up.
“George has a deadline tonight. So, he’ll be working. I thought it would be a lot of fun if you came with me.” Olivia pressed, hoping to convince her.
Iris glanced over at George who gave her a warm smile. George swallowed the last bite of his toast. “It is a lot of fun. You should go.”
Iris hesitated. It wasn’t
like she could come up with an excuse not to go. What would she say? That she had plans already to stay home and feel sorry for herself all evening? “Alright… I’ll go.” She relented.
“Great! Just think of it as an excuse to blow off some steam. We’re gonna have a blast... Girl’s night out. Can’t wait!” Olivia smiled enthusiastically.
“Right…” Iris answered flatly. She knew her friend meant well. “What time does it start?”
“We leave here at six. Don’t be late. And please, clean yourself up!” Olivia pleaded with her friend. She was excited. She hoped this might be a nice distraction for Iris from the breakup and the stressful task of searching for a job in a nonexistent job market. Plus, she was looking forward to having some much-needed bonding time with her best friend.
Iris nodded, but stared blankly out the window. Finally, feeling a little more alert, she poured herself a cup of coffee.
CHAPTER THREE
AT THE ART EXHIBITION, Iris felt out of place. It had been a while since she had been out in public. She was wearing a sexy blue dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She’d bought it a couple of years ago for a Broadway show she and Kaleb went to. It felt weird to wear it now, but she didn’t have the time or the money to buy anything else.
“So what are we supposed to do here?” She asked Olivia who was delicately sipping from a tall flute of champagne.
“Look at art. Talk to people. Mingle.” Olivia answered as she surveyed the room. She caught the eye of one of her co-workers who beckoned for her to come over. “I’ll be right back”, she said to Iris.
In an instant, Olivia was gone. Iris stood there awkwardly, tottering on her heels as she tried to figure out what to do with herself. She watched the crowd intently, noticing how most of the women conducted themselves with a pristine etiquette. They held their heads up high, their postures ramrod-straight. She cringed at the sight of them and quickly looked away.
Sweat It Out: A Billionaire Love Story Page 11