Dennis shrugged, his eyes still on the football game.
“Bring me back something?” he asked.
I sighed as I clenched my jaw. Saying yes would get me out of here quicker than arguing with him even more.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“A turkey sandwich. You know, like from that place you like going to that makes it with all the Thanksgiving fixings.”
“Fine.”
As I closed the door behind me, I heard him yell.
“And a Coke. You never have anything good here.”
“If you want something good, then buy it yourself,” I muttered angrily.
I got into my car and turned the key in the ignition. The car coughed, choked, and went silent. I tried it again, holding the key in the on position, letting the engine whine as I waited for it to turn on, but nothing happened.
Shit! Now what?
Staring blankly at the dashboard, I went through all the problems the old car could have. Battery? No, it was making noise. Transmission? No, I had that replaced over the summer.
Letting out a long sigh, I got out of the car and looked at it, hoping it would magically start. There was no way I was getting to Mirabella’s now.
A baby blue sports car zipped past, then screeched as it stopped at the corner. The engine roared as the driver hit the gas.
Asshole, I thought. Probably another ridiculous billionaire. Like this town doesn’t have enough of them.
As I got back into my car, a car horn sounded. I ignored it and turned the key in the ignition again. The car still didn’t start. The horn honked longer, so I rolled down my window and gave the guy the finger. It was the blue sports car. It honked again.
I opened the car door and stepped out, yelling at the expensive car.
“You can’t have this spot. I’m not leaving. I can’t leave, you fucking asshole!”
The car door opened, and Brent Winslow got out of the car wearing a pair of slacks with a white button-down shirt and a huge shit-eating grin.
Of all the people, why did it have to be him?
I jumped back into my car as he approached.
“You piece of shit,” I yelled. “Now would be a good time to start. Now!”
“I wasn’t trying to get your spot,” Brent said as he leaned against my car door. “I already got your spot about four months ago, remember?”
He cocked his brow at me and I swore his eyes twinkled. Sometimes it was too easy to hate this man. Today just wasn’t my day.
“Ugh, really?” I shook my head. “I’m reminded of it every time I see you.”
“See, you can’t stop thinking about it either,” he said with a wink.
“Please, just stop. I don’t need this right now. Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”
“What’s wrong with your car?” he asked.
“How do I know? It won’t start. It’s going to cost me a lot of money. That’s how it always is with this car.”
“Did you put gas in it?”
“Did I put gas in it.” I rolled my eyes “Do I look stupid?”
My mind raced, trying to think about when I last put gas in the car. There’s no way it was empty. I glanced at the old car’s dashboard and saw the red dial pointed to ‘E’. Dennis! I let out a long sigh and hung my head down as I rubbed my forehead. Dennis had borrowed my car the other day. I should know better than to expect him to take care of it.
Stupid! Stupid!
“Okay then, how about you just let your car rest and I’ll give you a ride?”
I turned and pointed at his car.
“In that?” I asked, scrunching my face.
“It’s a really nice car,” he said, opening my car door.
“I should’ve known you’d drive something that flashy, but baby blue? Really?”
“That’s a special paint job. You won’t find another Maserati GranTurismo in this color.”
“There’s a reason for that,” I said. “Why would you get a car in this color?”
“I didn’t, although I do have one, just not in this color. This was given to me as a gift, but I’m donating it to charity. I just figured I’d take it for a drive first.”
“Which charity? The society of billionaire douchebags?”
“No, we don’t accept gifts. We just have our monthly meetings where we talk about how we rescue damsels in distress. Looks like I’ll have a good story to tell next time.”
“I wasn’t in distress,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“Whatever you say,” he said. “Hey, you want to drive it?”
“Really?” I asked, giving him the side eye. What was he up to?
“Sure, why not?” He handed me the keys, opened the driver’s side door, and bowed. “My lady.”
“I am not your lady, but thank you.”
I lowered myself into the soft leather seats that hugged my body. I breathed deeply, taking in the new car smell. It was better than I imagined.
“Wow, I take it back, this is nice,” I said.
“I told you it’s a nice car. I think it’ll bring in a pretty penny for the Humane Society.”
“The Humane Society? You mean, like animal shelters and stuff like that?”
This guy can’t be for real.
“Is there another one?” he said.
I steered the car back onto the street, enjoying the drive, when I realized I left my keys in my car’s ignition. I shook my head and rolled my eyes while I silently yelled at myself.
“What’s the matter?” Brent asked.
“I have to go back,” I said, disappointed. “I swear I’m never getting to this lunch.”
“Why?”
“I left my keys in the car.” I looked in the rearview mirror as I tried to edge over into the next lane. “If I turn up here, I can probably loop back around.”
“No, don’t worry about it. You’re going to Mirabella’s, right?”
“Yes...how did you know?”
“That’s not important,” he said. “Just drive to the restaurant and I’ll go back and get your keys for you.”
“Listen, that’s really nice, but you don’t have to do that. Plus I thought you were busy.”
“There’s no deadline for charity,” he said. “I’ll get your keys and leave them with Amy. I’m sure you don’t want to see me again.”
I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true but remembered how much I was supposed to hate him. I reminded myself how he said he would call and then didn’t. Then I remembered that dinner where he brought a date, Brandi.
“I thought that was mutual,” I said.
“It is. I don’t want to see you either, but you know, I have to report a good deed to my Billionaire Douchebag Club.”
“Oh, you’re sooo funny,” I said dryly.
I pulled into the parking lot behind Mirabella’s, not wanting anyone to see me with him. That was all I needed. It was bad enough Samantha was always on my case for not thinking he was Prince Charming.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said.
“And getting your keys.”
“Well, you haven’t done that yet.”
“Oh, but I will, and then you’ll really owe me,” he grinned mischievously.
I couldn’t help but smile back, but then I noticed the look in his eye. I recognized that look from the coat closet at Samantha’s wedding. I couldn’t forget that look. I didn’t want to forget it.
Brent’s hand reached behind my neck and pulled me closer to him. His lips closed over mine and I melted against him before realizing what I was doing. I pushed away from him and smacked his chest.
Damn, I forgot how muscular he is.
My mind spun with all the things I wanted to say to him--
Leave me alone!
Go away!
Get a life!
I’ll be back in an hour.
There’s a private bathroom in the restaurant.
Ever have sex in a car? Want to try now?
Ins
tead I opened the car door and headed quickly towards the restaurant without looking back.
Chapter Three
Jackie
Mirabella’s was unusually empty for a Saturday afternoon. I sat at the table surrounded by my friends, but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying or anything at all. I stared at the rust-colored ceiling, then the art on the walls, then back at my plate.
I poked at my Cobb salad, grateful that Samantha was feeling especially chatty. As long as she kept talking, maybe no one would realize I was in my own world.
I hated that Brent had this effect on me. I hated that four months ago I had the best almost-sex I ever had and it was with a selfish, egotistical, gorgeous man who liked screwing women for the hell of it. And I hated that when I closed my eyes I could still feel his lips on my skin.
That kiss today, however brief, just made everything worse. It took me a while to stop obsessing about Brent and there I was doing it again.
“Hey, Jackie,” Amy whispered as she tapped my shoulder.
Blinking, I brought myself back from my dream world and turned to look at her. Amy usually worked the cash register whenever we had our lunches there.
“Oh hey, Amy. I wasn’t sure if you were working today. I didn’t see you when I came in,” I said.
“You walked right past me. You were in your own little world,” she said with a soft laugh. “You’ll have to tell me who is he another time, but he is very yummy. Like a young Robert Redford. Hot!” She fanned her face with her hand. “He just dropped off your keys.”
She handed my keys to me and slipped away. I dropped them into my bag as I planned to go back to my home planet, but when I looked up Samantha had an expectant gaze. I looked around the table and everyone was looking at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I swore I saw Brent come in and then Amy comes over and hands you keys,” Samantha said. “I think I can speak for the table when I say we want details. Did you leave your keys at his place or is he leaving his keys with you?”
“Give me a break,” I said. “You know I can’t stand him, but yes that was him. They’re my keys. I left them in my car.”
“So why did he have them?”
I looked around the table hoping to find any excuse to talk about something else, but I came up blank.
“He was driving past and saw me fighting with my car,” I said.
I shrugged hoping no one would point out what I was just realizing. It sounded ridiculous. What was a wealthy man like Brent doing in my neighborhood?
“Mmm hmm,” Tara said.
The combination of her Southern accent and her raised eyebrow said more than words could have said. As I looked around the table, I could tell they were all thinking the same thing, that I was full of it.
“Really, I swear,” I said. “My car wouldn’t start and then Brent showed up and gave me a ride.”
“Oh I’m sure he gave you a ride alright. Like the ride he gave you at my wedding,” Samantha said with a laugh.
“Will you stop that? We didn’t have sex. It amazes me sometimes how alike you two are with your jokes,” I said, annoyed. “And really, you know it’s not easy having to live up to my mistakes over and over. I don’t bring up all the guys on your list. Can we just forget about it?”
“Umm, no,” Samantha said as she tilted her head and grinned. “I’m willing to accept that he just so happened to be driving down the road you live on while your car wouldn’t start. But when will you accept that fate is trying to get the two of you together?”
“What are you talking about fate? You think fate keeps making me run into him? If that’s fate at work then she’s even more of an idiot than I thought.”
“Maybe fate was just giving you a taste of what’s to come since you’re going to see him again tomorrow,” she said.
I stared at Samantha with my best you’ve completely lost your mind look.
“Why am I seeing him tomorrow?” I asked.
“Because you’re coming over for dinner, remember? Brent is coming too.”
“Wasn't last time bad enough? Why are you making me go through this again?”
“I’m telling you, Jackie, you guys would be great together,” Samantha said. “You just need to spend more time with him. You have a lot in common and I know you don’t like older men and Brent is only two years older than you.”
I buried my head in my hands wishing she would stop talking about him. How long was she going to go on about him?
As we said our good-byes, I pulled Samantha aside as we left the restaurant.
“Can you give me a ride to the gas station and then home? I need to get my car running again,” I said.
“What are you talking about? Isn’t that your car right there?” she asked.
I looked towards where she was pointing and shook my head.
“That looks like my car, but I don’t understand it. Dennis used my car the other day and didn’t refill it for me. Maybe he realized that while I was gone and put some gas in it. He has my spare set of keys.”
“Dennis?” Samantha said. “Why did you let him use your car? Don’t even tell me you’re back together with him. I don’t know why you even bother with that asshole still. You’ve been on and off for four years now. Come on, Jackie, you know you deserve better.”
“We’re still off and there will never be an on again with him. I’m just trying to help him out,” I said, opening the car door. “He’s really not that bad. I mean look, the tank is full.”
Samantha didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Her face said it all. She didn’t believe Dennis would do something nice. And if he did, then he would want something in return. That was how Dennis operated. I knew that, but I couldn’t help but defend him.
* * *
Even though Dennis hadn’t moved from where I left him, I still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Who else would put gas in my car for me? Dennis didn’t usually help me out, but there was a first time for everything.
The television was loud again and the apartment had a weird musty smell. I sniffed the air, trying to pin down the stench when my eyes began to water.
“Have you been smoking?” I asked, angrily.
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t in your precious apartment,” he said. “I went outside.”
His eyes didn’t move from the TV screen. I wanted to scream at him for smoking in my apartment, but I didn’t want to ruin the one good thing he did.
“Thanks for putting gas in my car,” I said as I leaned into his line of sight.
He gave me an annoyed look, then looked back at the screen.
“Where’s my sandwich?” he asked.
Guilt filled me, making my stomach drop. I felt so bad about forgetting the sandwich, I forgot about everything else. Dennis had the ability to make me feel horrible about simple mistakes.
“Oh no, I completely forgot,” I said.
“You were right there.”
“I know, I’m so sorry,” I said. “Do you want me to make something for you?”
“You don’t have anything. I already checked,” he said. “Maybe we can go get something once this game is over.”
“I can’t. I have to work tonight.”
“You call that work? You just like rubbing elbows with those fancy people.”
“I like doing the events. Plus I need that money to pay for grad school.”
And to keep you comfy on my couch apparently.
“Well, you work a lot,” he said. “More than I ever did and I made more than you. You should really consider whether it’s worth your time or not.”
“Worth my time?” I stared at him for a minute. After all this time, how could he not understand how much I enjoyed working these events? It kept me busy which meant I didn’t have time to think about all the things that were wrong in my life, like having an ex-boyfriend who kept staying with me.
“I think once I get promoted, you should think about this more,” he said. “Fig
ure out how much you’re making waitressing for Samantha and if it’s really worth your time. You could move in with me and just focus on going to school.”
What???
I couldn’t deal with him anymore. Dennis was an accountant at a big firm. He was very proud of that fact and how much money he made. I wondered how he was able to function in such a high profile, high stress environment when the Dennis I knew melted down putting together IKEA furniture.
I stared at him as I tried to figure out what was going on in his head, but he just turned back to the game. Did he really think that was a good idea? Did he think we were still together? Had he completely lost his mind?
Shaking my head, I walked out of the living room and into my bedroom. The last thing I wanted to do was get into another fight. I only had to put up with him for three more days and then he’d be gone. At least that's what I hoped.
Chapter Four
Jackie
The next day, I rushed home from class and quickly changed into my nicer pair of jeans and a purple knit top. Dennis was looking through the cupboards in the kitchen when I came out of my room.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Samantha invited me for dinner,” I said.
“And you’re not inviting me to come along? Don’t you think that’s rude?”
“I think it’s rude of you to expect an invitation. And I think it’s rude that you’re going through my cupboards when you haven’t given me money for groceries. When is your apartment going to be ready?”
“If you don’t want me here just say so and I’ll sleep in the car or something,” he said
“You don’t even have a car. Do you really think I’d let you sleep in my car?”
“I don’t need a car. Work gives me a rental when I travel which is a lot. You’re being a real bitch, you know that?”
I held myself back from blowing up at him. It wouldn’t help and I’d only end up late for dinner. In my head I counted backwards from ten as I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.
I’ll deal with him another time.
* * *
Love to Hate You Page 3