by Devin Sawyer
“Oh Ari, perfect. Let’s get started why don’t we?” John’s not even mad. I’m at least ten minutes late and the dude doesn’t even seem flustered. I play my part as the trustworthy and hardworking event planner that is still on top of her game, even after a night off, not to let anyone believe otherwise.
We review the week’s events and appropriate the funds through Nadia. I breeze through this as it is less painful than the second part to our meeting where we spend a few hours planning for the following week’s parties. I continue to lead the discussion, pointing out to each member of the team their own responsibilities as we review them. We discuss the themes, the vendors participating, the client’s musical preference is reviewed with Evan, the menu for each event is carefully chosen based on each client’s taste and Joyce accommodates, timelines for each event and where security will need to be in each location, as well the risk involved for each high profile attendee at the party. The packet with all the information needed for each party is assigned to everyone in the room. It’s after one when we finish, and my hangover gut is desperate for greasy food.
I gather my items, but I notice Nadia lingering and I know she’s waiting on the scoop from last night. I don’t want to process this. I can’t even process it myself.
“Soooooooo…” she practically whistles while eyeing the office to assure everyone is clearing out. I take a second to glance around as well and John and Torren are heading for the elevator that Evan and Joyce are already stepping into. Upon Torren and John entering the elevator and turning to face the front, I catch both their glances. I throw up a quick polite wave, mostly meant as a kiss-ass attempt for John before giving Nadia my attention and Torren’s eyes zero onto me, reserved but calculating. I don’t know what the fuck that even means and I’m too hungover to try and interpret it.
Nadia continues, “I’m really interested in the size of his penis, so I’m going to need a complete report back on that one.”
I roll my eyes and attempt to stifle a laugh. “For your information, I did not even see his man business, but if I did, I would assume it looks the same as it did all those years ago.” I don’t bother telling her that I never actually saw it then either. While I’ve talked to the girls about Torren, they only assumed that in hooking up I’d seen the goods. Chelsea and Em knew, but I never gave Nadia all the details. It was nice to have that one friend who hadn’t seen you at your lowest.
“I don’t know. Those pictures you had from when y’all were younger, he definitely looks like he filled out a little.” I immediately regret keeping those. Nadia stumbled across them on a girls' wine night at my apartment with Emily and Chelsea. Most of them were from the Fourth of July weekend we had spent together, but a few other random ones of us cuddling like annoyingly adorable teens were mixed in as well.
“Does this mean you and Brad are done?” Anguish fills me.
“Brad deserves better than this. My own selfishness wants to hold onto him. He is safe and comfortable and doesn’t come with all this hatred and pain attached. I need to talk to him, sort my feelings out and make a decision. I’ll call him tonight, once I’ve had time to think about things a little.” She nods her head.
“I adore Brad, but maybe he feels safe and comfortable because you’ve never had any real passion for him. You’ve never had to be vulnerable with him.”
“Can we get some tacos and hair of the dog in me before I hurl all over the conference table and save the deep conversations for later?”
Nadia does take me to lunch. She calls Em and Chelsea to meet us, and Nadia never makes me spill last night’s events. Both Em and Chelsea were a part of my life last time Torren was in it and I’m just not ready to discuss him with them yet. I already know what they will say. I’ll receive all the warnings from Em who is NOT touchy-feely at all, but she will be in that moment because she doesn’t want to see me return to the shell of a person I used to be. She will warn me that I’m putting my career at risk, that this is not forever, that she’s worried about me. And Chelsea will listen more than anything. She was Torren’s friend once too, in fact, she was his friend first, and I know they went out the other night to catch up, so I can’t exactly share these things with her either, she’s partial to him. I’ve got Nadia if I need her, until then it will be business as usual and tacos with the girls.
My hangover consumes me during lunch. I toss back a mimosa with the girls staring at me and mostly zone out of the conversation. Em had a date with an Italian stockbroker last night and we are getting the details, but my mind is drifting elsewhere. It’s weighted heavily on thoughts of why the fuck I thought it would be good to hook up with Torren after all these years. All the damn anger and sexual tension between us at the office finally took over. When I say it that way in my head, I can reason that it had less to do with my own judgment and more to do with things that are out of my control.
“A, are you good with that?”
“Huh?” My attention draws back to Emily, Chels and Nadia who are all looking to me as if I’m supposed to be answering a question.
“Girl’s night. Tonight. My place.”
“Yeah, cool. I’ll be there.” They feel my aloofness. It’s hard to be emotionally connected to anything or anyone when I’m running from my own feelings.
When I get home from lunch, I decide it’s finally time to bite the bullet. I type out a text to Brad to call me when he gets a chance. I lay back on my bed, knowing with his travel schedule that it could be hours away, so it shocks me when my phone begins buzzing.
“Hey, that was quicker than I expected.”
“Yeah, I’ve been in meetings all morning, no breaks, even on Sundays so I figured now would be as good a time as any to step out and hear your voice. I’ve missed it the last few days.” The last part he says hesitantly.
“Don’t let me interrupt your meetings. Just call me when you get a break in the day. We can talk later.” I push it off, wanting to use this as an escape, an excuse. I hadn’t really thought about what I would say.
“No, don’t worry about it. Now is as good a time as any, breaks aren’t frequent. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, busy as always. The first party of the season was last night so we are rolling full force ahead now. What about you? How’s the traveling?”
“Lonely. Look, Ari, I’m trying to give you your space, but the more we pull away the tighter I want to hold on.” A deep sigh gushes out of me. I’m a shit person.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you the other day.” I take a deep breath in and release it. “I do need to take a step back from us, a big one, but it wasn’t the commitment stuff. We were fine.”
“Just fine?” he asks. I ignore his pondering and move forward.
“Torren, the ex of mine, from high school, he’s been hired for the holiday season at work. He started a couple weeks ago, and it’s just really been messing with my head.”
“Uh huh.” Brad echoes me into the phone. “I see.”
“I’m not in love with him or anything like that, but it’s just really got me in a bad place emotionally and I could see it damaging us. With your trip planned, I thought it was a good time to step away. I still think it’s good to step away. I’m a mess right now.”
“You should let me be there for you, Annie.” He’s the only one that calls me Annie. I never liked it. Is Annie really even short for Arianne? Early in the relationship, I had corrected him, requesting Ari or Arianne but eventually, I stopped. He’s persistent.
“I have the girls. They’ve been around a lot lately. I’ll probably let them know more tonight. Em is hosting a girl’s night.”
“Good. Good. You need them. So, Torren, is it?” I hate that in all this he’s still thinking of me, protecting me.
“Mmhmm.”
“He’s not hired on for good? Just over the holidays?”
“Right. Just temporary. He will leave sometime after New Year’s, but I just think this is best for us right now. A clean break.” I
hear a heavy sigh over the line and my guilt twists in my gut.
“Well, you know my number. I’m done with this project in March and will be back then if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Brad.” My eyes start to mist and I feel the fear of separation harder than before. “Thank you for everything that you did for me.”
“Take care of yourself, Annie.” He hangs up the phone without any further salutations.
I expected this to go much worse for him. I expected to be the cold-hearted one while Brad groveled a little more. Rather than hopping in the shower and washing the last twenty-four hours off of me, I curl up in bed and let the tears stream down my face until I fall into a restful nap. I deserve to soak in this guilt.
~
I arrive at Em’s later that evening. I brought champagne and orange juice prepared to drown my sorrows in mimosas. I have no desire to be around others, but following my conversation with Brad, I would feel a real hypocrite if I don’t go to them with these things. Tears still fill my eyes as they open the door to me and they know. They don’t know it’s Torren all over again, but they know it’s me and the same struggle I’ve had for the last eight years.
“Whose face do I need to fuck up?” Em asks as I trudge in. I snort a wet and gross laugh at her. “I broke up with Brad,” I explain. “Torren’s back in town.”
That’s all she needs to know to re-engage operation high school heartbreak.
Chapter 23
Torren
Ari’s staying busy and has stayed cooped up in her office all day. We have another event tomorrow night for an office party of a major Houston company, but I know she can do this work in her sleep. She’s avoiding me. I stew in my own office, part anger, and part desperation. I wait her out. She runs like clockwork. Arrives at seven-thirty every morning. Lunch right at noon, and leaves at six. She didn’t leave for lunch today and I know she’s trying to break her routine and throw me off. At six-fifteen, everyone else has cleared out of the office, but she’s still barricaded in hers. I watch her door from my own desk. I try to work, to do anything productive, but as usual, she is the only thing on my mind. A few minutes later I see her duck out of her office and stealthily look around. She spots me almost instantly and huffs a breath out at her own defeat. I get up from my desk and head over to her.
“It’s a shame. I had you pegged for Guinness World Records ‘longest office campout.’” She reopens her office door and heads back inside, inviting me in. She really shouldn’t have holed up all day because her ass looks amazing in the pencil skirt she’s wearing. She leans back onto her large mahogany desk and crosses her legs at the ankle.
I stand back at the door and give her an assessing look, wanting to punish her with silence into owning what she feels.
“I ended things with Brad.”
Victory.
“He doesn’t deserve me running around on him behind his back.”
“This isn’t going to get any easier for us, Ari. I can’t help what I feel when I’m around you, I don’t think you’re doing much better of a job.”
“You know, I find you much more insufferable than I did a few years back and I’m not sure if the desire lingering is not just some fantasy idea of us still floating around. I’m trying to figure out if I’m just playing out some high school romance. I need time to think and I need you to give it to me.”
“How much time are we talking about?” I’d be lying if I hadn’t asked myself the same thing. Is this just nostalgia? The opportunity to fix what I broke years before?
“I don’t know. A week?” I huff out a breath in disbelief.
“No. I already gave you yesterday off, and I’m only here for a few weeks. I want every moment to explore this.”
“That’s not being fair to me, Torren,” she shouts across the office, tears brimming in her eyes, she bites at her bottom lip, attempting to regain composure. I don’t want to hurt her, I just want to be the only choice she’s ever had. I want to be the easy choice for once.
I drag in another breath and release it. I give her my vulnerability, as hard as it is to own.
“I haven’t felt like this since the last time. I know you have, and you’ve had Brad, and probably others, but this has been missing from my life for the past eight years and it’s finally within arm’s reach again. I won’t go without a fight.”
Her tearful look softens on me. I hate that look. I hate the pity and sorrow. I just wanted her to know so she understood that this is it for me. It always has been. I don’t need her pity, this was a mistake. I head to the door in defeat.
“Wait, don’t go.” Her voice is shaky and higher than usual.
She walks over to meet me at the door frame. She looks me in the eye and allows her gaze to wander over me. Taking a real moment to look at me. It’s uncomfortable, but I allow her this moment because I get it. I do this to her every day. I memorize her.
When she makes her way down to my body she reaches for my hand and she holds it in hers.
“I feel something too…I think. I just need a few days to work out what it is.”
I nod my head at her request. “I’ll call a truce through tomorrow. I’ll give you your space, but after that, all bets are off and I’m coming for you.” I pull my hand from hers as I head for the door.
“Better figure out how much you miss me, soon,” I yell back at her.
“Torren that is not enough time,” she hollers down the hall after me.
I leave her at that. It’s plenty of time. She’s already taken a break from Brad, I knew within ten minutes of setting my eyes on her again that this, us, was going to happen all over again. This time I wouldn’t screw it up.
~
I give Ari an extra half day without pestering her. I’m trying to be considerate, but the waiting is eating at me. It’s a part of me that wasn’t always there, but I’ve spent years off and on in therapy and one thing I heard over and over is that I wasn’t considerate enough of Ari’s feelings when I chose to cover for Jeff. I’m working on compromising, so I don’t even bother her until Wednesday afternoon. When I leave work, I pass by her office and then type out a text.
Me: Time’s up, Ace. Let’s make a date.
I get in my car and head for home, we have a party the next three nights in a row and I’m using tonight to sway her ass back to me. When my phone doesn’t vibrate back with a text, it occurs to me that she could have changed her mind. That she didn’t just need time to take in what she was doing but to actually make a decision about whether or not I was worth it. After a half hour, I message her again.
Me: I recognize that I come with a lot of risk, but I’m willing to make it worth your while. Trust me.
A ding alerts me to her immediate response.
Ari: If that was intended to be dirty, then I’m going to have to consider showing these to HR.
Me: Glad to know your mind is in the gutter, but you pretty much are HR, so I’m not worried.
Ari: My mind is not in the gutter. Your messages are cryptic.
Me: I’ll show you cryptic. Date. Sunday. After the meeting.
Those three dots taunt me as they flash across my screen. I watch them disappear and then reappear again. Five minutes go by and nothing comes through, then finally,
Ari: No.
Damn. She wounds me with that period at the end. So finite. This is exasperating. I plot all the ways I plan to punish her when all is said and done.
Me: Ace… I warn her. I am losing my patience.
Ari: I haven’t had enough time to think about it.
Me: Don’t pretend you didn’t think about this exact scenario for the past eight years, Ace. I want an answer before Sunday. Think on it.
She doesn’t respond back after that, and I’m too irritated to chase after her anymore tonight. It’s been a full-time job since I got here. I arrive back at the corporate apartment and prepare to spend another endless night alone.
~
We start work a little later on
party days knowing we won’t leave for home until ten at the earliest or sometimes even two in the morning if they have a full bar running. It’s an exhausting ever-changing schedule. You can see it in everyone’s eyes by Thursday how tired we all are. I’m ready for Sunday for more than one reason and wouldn’t even be mad if Ari and I just fell into a bed together somewhere to catch up on some sleep.
At the end of the Thursday night’s event, Evan grabs me and invites me out with the team for breakfast tacos the next morning. Apparently, it’s a Friday morning routine that I’m just being let in on. Just looking at him still makes my blood flare in my veins, reminding myself of all the time he’s had with her, and all the times he’s probably tried to be with her. The thought makes me want to knock him out, but I try to remind myself that so far, he’s been nothing but inviting toward me. It’s late—after one a.m., but I type out a text to Ari, not really wanting to go back to my pre-furnished company apartment alone. She ran around the party frantically keeping everyone’s shit together all night, but I can’t pass up a chance to convince her.
Me: I changed my mind after seeing your dress today. I want an answer sooner. Come over tonight. Apartment 913.
Ari: Not a chance in hell.
Me: You’re making this rough on me. I promise to be on my best behavior.
Ari: you don’t know what best behavior even is.
I smile at that. She’s still very witty and quick. I missed that about her.
Me: You used to be a pretty good teacher. All those rules of yours.
Ari: Go to bed, Torren. I’ll see you at the office.
The last part I know she did on purpose, reminding me that we were only together in a professional manner, but she blew that to shit when she let me into her apartment. Our chemistry was volatile. It was heated and passionate, then cold and distant. We had trained ourselves to be this way with each other. I was determined to spend as many moments as I could with her feeling that passion again.
Me: Try wearing something more trash-bag-like to work then. Your legs are taunting me.