by Laila Cole
Chapter 2 – Jennifer
A week or so ago
I took a deep breath as I prepared to open the front door to my home. I almost didn’t want to go in. I couldn’t stand the thought of another fight with Steven. He was a rageaholic, and I knew that when I married him, but over the course of the last year he’d become an alcoholic too. It was a dangerous mix that left me unsettled and scared. But below all of that misery was a long history, after all he was still my husband and I loved him.
A year prior after ten years together in the DEA he’d lost his partner Erick Cornejo on the Mexico-California border in a drug bust gone south, and he hadn’t taken it well. I tried to support him, I tried to help him, but he wouldn’t have it. At every turn I was cast aside and belittled as he sunk further and further into a soul crushing depression that left him a shell of the man I once knew. A man I hoped to see again.
I opened the door to find him sitting on the couch and staring at the TV, yelling at the conservative news station covering the riots in Baltimore. An ice-cold bottle of IPA was in in hands, as usual, with twelve other empties piled up on the coffee table like a brown glass wall. He looked up at me. “What are you doing here this early?”
“It’s 6pm. I live here,” I said. “Lose track of time in all that ale?” He laughed and took a swig of his beer. I placed my purse on the coffee table in front of our brown leather couch. “Steve, we need to talk okay?”
He laughed again and chugged the rest of his beer. “Ain’t much to talk about,” he pointed to the beer bottles and cleared his straw blonde hair from his eyes. "This is who I am, if you don’t like it then you can leave.”
“Oh, there’s plenty to talk about and I’m not going anywhere.” The fact was when we got hitched I made a vow to him that I’d stand by him for better or worse. And I intended to keep that promise, regardless of what he threw in my direction. Deep down he was a good man once you stripped away his demons.
He paused for a second and stared at me with a drunken gaze. “Stay then,” he said. “Stay and boss me around like you enjoy so much.”
Steven didn’t understand that me trying to help him was born in my commitment to our marriage. I hated when he doubted our relationship, or my commitment to helping him. “I will. I heard the border is heating up again on the news. Have you been paying attention? The same guys that killed Erick are still out there, aren’t they?”
His eyes filled with fury and rage. “Excuse you?”
“You heard me. Yet here you are drowning in ale, as usual.”
“All you give a shit about is money! You don’t give a fuck about me, or what I’ve been through.”
“That’s not true! Listen, I don’t make enough for us to survive on an administrative assistant’s paycheck! Your disability ran out a month ago and we’ve got bills to pay. And all you do instead of getting back out there is to sit and drink beer, all day. It’s only holding us back!”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through!” he yelled.
“I do, but you don’t give me any credit for it!”
“Really?” he said. “So you know what it’s like to find your partner shot point blank in the head, and how it feels to inform his wife and family that he’s been killed in the line of duty?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I understand what you’ve gone through because I’ve seen what it’s done to you. Babe, you’re better than this! Can’t you see that?”
He took another swig from his beer and put it on the coffee table. “I’m not better than shit. I should have saved him from those cartel bastards.”
“Babe, just let it go! It wasn’t your fault. Can’t you see that holding on to all of this anger is killing you? I’m not pushing you to work just because of the money. I’m pushing you because I’m tired of seeing you like this.”
My heart began to pound. He stood up and walked toward me, his face riddled with rage, his soulful blue eyes as piercing as ever. For the first time in our relationship I was almost certain he was going to hit me. “I’ll go back when I’m good and fucking ready!”
He turned and walked to the fridge and I followed him. He pulled out another bottle of ale and opened it with the dull side of a knife. He took a huge swig of it and rubbed the foam from his lips.
“What would Erick say if he saw you like this?”
He pointed the knife at me before he slammed it on the granite counter. “You watch your fucking mouth!” He threw the half full bottle against the wall behind me and it exploded into a million pieces covering our wooden floor with shards of glass and suds. He walked toward me until the stench of hoppy beer was evident on his breath. “I’m going to say this once, and only once. Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. Do you understand me?”
He returned to the fridge to open up another beer as I choked up with tears. “Why are you saying this to me?” He’d never spoken to me in this way, but the rage and booze were mixing in a dangerous brew. After everything I’d done for him, he was so resistant to change, or even a comforting touch. He’d changed, and I didn’t know if the man I still loved was in there once you stripped away the booze and regret.
He laughed and took a swig of ale. “I’ll say whatever the hell I want. Now get out of my face and leave me alone.” He walked back to the couch and stretched out on the chaise.
I ran to our room with tears in my eyes, slammed the door and texted my co-worker Susan Smith, a fellow administrative assistant at Schuster and Sons. “What are you doing tonight? I need to get out of the house and talk.” She was the only one of the fellow assistants that I trusted not to spread rumors.
She responded almost immediately. “That bad huh?”
“Worse.”
“Oh dear. Are you sure you can get out tonight? Or is he going crazy again? Let me know if I need to call the cops.”
“No cops! I don’t know. I have to wait for him to pass out. He’s really, really drunk. I can probably squeeze out at 9PM?”
“That works. Meet me at the bar in the W hotel downtown. We’ll talk. Love you.”
“Ok. I’ll see you there.” A sense of relief rushed through me. I needed a friend, and I had one.
I stayed in our room that once was full of love and sat on the corner of our bed, my face in my hands, crying my eyes out. It hadn’t always been so bad. We’d been together ten years, seven of them amazing, two of them troubled, and one of them downright awful. Our relationship was hanging by a thread and I didn’t even know if Steven cared enough to sustain it. I hated being the only one trying. It left me feeling empty and alone as I chased for a glimmer of hope that we’d get back to the way it was in those first seven years, but every day that passed that glimmer of hope got dimmer.
I understood that he’d been wounded by the loss of his partner and suffering from PTSD, but what I didn’t understand is why he would push me away when all I wanted to do was help him. It seemed so counter-intuitive, so I reasoned that he’d become comfortable in his misery, but I refused to join him. The higher road for us both was me pulling him out of the mire and I was determined to do so.
8:30 PM rolled around and I slipped into a hip hugging black dress, released my ponytail so that my brown locks draped over my shoulders, and applied a thin coat of red lipstick to my lips. A black pair of Jimmy Choos Steven had given me as a gift five years prior caught my eye in the closet. I kicked off my flip-flops and slipped into them. I felt hot, hot enough to hang out with Susan who always looked immaculate.
Susan was an interesting woman. She’d always been my good friend and trusted confidant. She was younger than me by 2 years at 32; she had never been married but went through men like a hot knife through butter. Her raven black hair, young face, and sultry lips were weapons and she employed them. As much as I wanted to look down upon her non-traditional ways, I couldn’t. Oddly enough, I respected her for her differences.
I checked my look one last time in the mirror. My eyes were swollen from the near constant flow of tears
an hour earlier. I hoped by the time I made it to the bar they’d look normal again. As much as I trusted Susan, I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t want to make her worry more than she already did.
I tip toed passed Steven who was passed out on the side of the couch and snoring, and headed toward my run down, oil gobbling 2005 Toyota Tercel parked in our driveway, and drove downtown. It only took a few minutes to get there from Bayho. I walked into the W hotel and was taken aback at how dead it was, but then again it was Thursday.
Susan was sitting at the bar sipping on a martini. I watched a Japanese businessmen approach her and get summarily rejected. She was merciless as he walked away with his head hung low. My eyes caught hers from across the room and she smiled. “Jennie!” she yelled, walking toward me like a top model on her neon blue heels that matched an equally bright blue dress. Dammit she looked hot. No matter what I wore I always ended up looking plain compared to her.
I smiled back, trying to hide the negative emotions bubbling just underneath my flesh. I scanned her up and down. “Damn you look hot.”
She brought her martini glass up to her mouth and took a sip. “Thank you. And that black number on you? Girl, goddamn! Come on baby, let me buy you a drink and let’s talk.”
I followed her to the bar, she didn’t hesitate to order for me, and she knew exactly what I wanted. “Vodka cranberry, on the rocks,” she said.
The curly haired bartender wearing a bowtie smiled in return. “Coming right up, Miss.” He began to make my drink without hesitation.
But as happy as I was to see her, my emotions started to bubble up. A tear slipped out of corner of my eye and I brushed it away quickly to prevent my mascara from running.
She lightly touched my shoulder. “Aww. Come on Jen, tell me what happened. Are the two of you ok? Couples fight you know?”
I sobbed a bit. “Not Iike this they don’t. I want to believe we’re ok, but he is in a horrible place mentally. Please don’t repeat what I’m about to tell you.”
“Ok, I promise. I won’t. What is it?”
The bartender delivered my drink on a small white napkin and I took a sip. “Thank you,” I said to him, and turned back to Susan. “For the first time since I’ve known him I stopped believing he wouldn’t hurt me. I saw a look in his eyes I just can’t explain. He threw a beer bottle at me.”
“Really?” she said in a state of shock. “I never took him as the type.”
“I know. He’s not, he’s really not. He’s just never gotten over the loss of his partner. He blames himself and then he punishes himself, only now I’m the collateral damage taking shrapnel.”
Susan looked me dead in the eyes. “Jen baby, I hate to ask you this, so please don’t be mad.”
“Ok,” I said.
“Are you thinking of leaving him?”
I was appalled by the question. “Excuse me? No! That is not an option. We will get through this!”
“I only ask because I’m honestly scared for you sweetie. It’s not right that he treats you like this. You deserve so much more. You’re a beautiful, smart, and classy woman. He needs to see that, there are other men who will and will treat you as such.”
I took another sip of my drink and felt the booze began to numb my emotional pain. “You’re right. But I never made vows with any of those men.”
She smiled at me. “Damn you are one tough bitch! And I mean that with the best of intentions.”
I laughed, clearing the mist from my eyes. “I know. A weaker woman would have been gone long ago, huh?”
“Umm, yea!” she said, taking another sip of her martini. “But I respect your decision to stay. Lord knows I kick ‘em out too quick.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. She always had a way of making me feel better. I finished my drink, when out of nowhere the bartender delivered me another vodka cranberry. I looked up at him surprised. “I didn’t order this.”
“You’re right. You didn’t.” He pointed down the bar to a Hispanic man as striking as I’d ever seen who stared at me and smiled. “He did.” He was wearing a grey wool business suit and a light gray tie, his brown eyes like two glimmering marbles, his black hair slicked back.
“Really?” I said in a state of shock and confusion. I looked at Susan. “Did you set this up?”
She shook her head and laughed. “No, babe. That’s all you.”
I looked at the bartender. “Send it back. I’m married.”
The bartender smiled and carried the drink back to the man at the other end of the bar. Susan grabbed my arm. “Are you crazy? That guy is like super hot.”
“He’s all yours. I’m taken.” A mischievous grin erupted on her face. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” But just as I said that, the man stood up and walked toward me, his gaze magnetic as my eyes refused to look anywhere but in his. My heart pounded as he approached. With a smile he spoke. “If I’d have known you were going to be such a challenge I would have sprung for something more expensive.”
Susan clamored. “Oh-my-god. I will leave you two alone.” She stood up and quietly disappeared to the lobby of the hotel as the man inched a little bit closer.
With a conversation now unavoidable I grasped for the right words. “More expensive? Like what?” I said it with a smile though my nerves had never been more frayed.
“Blue Label Johnnie Walker always goes down smooth.” He pulled out a stool from under the bar and sat right next to me.
“I’m sorry mister, I’m taken.”
“Well at least let me introduce myself?” He held out his hand toward mine. “I’m Damien Hernandez, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I hesitantly shook his hand; his grip was firm, his hands strong. For a split second I imagined them massaging the stress from my shoulders, though I halted those guilty visions as quickly as they’d started. “I’m Jennifer Davenport. What brings you to San Diego?”
“Business. As usual,” he laughed. “My entire life revolves around airports and hotels.”
I caught vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke. “Tough. I wouldn’t enjoy that. What’s your business?”
“Well, it’s not as simple as that. I run multiple businesses for a large conglomerate. I am in the area closing a deal, and to be honest with you, it’s going to be my last.”
“Last?” I said.
“Yes. I’m retiring.”
I looked him up and down. He wasn’t a day over 40. “Yes, retire because you’re so old.”
He laughed. “I’m looking forward to a new chapter in my life, one that doesn’t revolve around midnight conference calls, red-eye flights, and never ending stress.” He waived down the bartender who came quickly. “May I have two Blue Label Johnnie Walkers, neat? On second thought, make them doubles.”
“Absolutely,” the bartender said. He fixed our drinks, sliding them toward us.
I was hesitant to grab mine, not wanting to give him the wrong idea, and knowing that Blue Label Johnnie Walker was so far out of my price range I’d never be able to pay him back. “It seems like you’ve got a great job, but you’re not happy?”
“It’s not that I’m not happy, it’s the occupational hazard from all of the stress. Life can’t be only about money and power. I want stability and a family, none of which this position affords me. I haven’t been home to Manhattan in four weeks.” He paused. “Enough about me. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
I blushed, and after the excitement wore off, I realized that aside from Susan I hadn’t been told I was beautiful in a long, long time. I finally took a sip of the whiskey before responding, and did so quietly. “No.”
“That’s a shame,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead. “Clearly you deserve better.”
I began to sweat. I took another sip of the whiskey, noting how smooth it was. “Thanks for the whiskey, it’s a real treat. Listen, I don’t want to lead you on, I have a husband.”
He smiled. “I know. You’
ve only been talking about him all night.”
I snapped at him. “And you don’t care?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Should I?”
I nodded, and took another sip of whiskey. “You most certainly should.”
“I’m perplexed,” he said.
“At what?”
“At you. You’re here with a friend, you’ve been crying, and you’re dressed to kill. What with the tears and all … I don’t mean to pry, but is everything ok at home?”
I took a big gulp of whiskey and coughed. “My personal life is none of your business.” Offended that he’d gone there I decided to wiggle out of the conversation. “Listen, it’s been fun talking to you, and thanks for the drink, but I’ve got to go catch up with my friend.”
He nodded. “Well that’s disappointing. I know I’m a stranger, but I’m a good listener if you want to talk. I’ve always found it easier to talk to strangers when I’m in need, but that’s just me.”
“How convenient,” I snapped. “Goodbye Damien.” I shot the rest of the whiskey down my throat and slammed the glass on the table. I turned and walked toward the lobby where an attractive businessman was showering Susan with attention and affection.
Damien addressed me from behind as I walked toward Susan. “You don’t really want to leave, you just think you have to.”
I turned around in a state of shock. “Excuse you?” I didn’t know if I was offended, angry, flattered, or all three combined. I was flummoxed. No man had ever been so forward with me.
“You heard me,” he said, walking toward me with the most confident stride I’d ever seen. “I can see it in your eyes, swollen as they are from the tears your husband has put you through. The last place you want to end up tonight is back home.”
“Really?” I snapped. “And I suppose you have no vested interest in where I go tonight, do you?”
“Only if you come with me,” he said with a smile.
“Do you always get everything you want?”
“Always,” he said, pulling a keycard from his wool suit jacket and handing it to me. “I’m in the penthouse, join me? The views of the city are incredible.” He stared me right in the eyes, not saying another word as he waited for me to accept his proposal.
My resolve weakened as a thick silence lay between us. I grabbed the keycard from his hands and looked at it, legitimately considering his offer, but I was better than an adulteress and my husband needed me. I handed it back to him. “I’m married Damien, and those vows mean something to me, regardless of what I’m going through.”
“I don’t care. Deep down he’ll never treat you like I will, and then again you’ll never know. You’re too busy hanging on to the exact thing which makes you miserable.”
“You don’t know anything about my marriage or me! And you should care because how we uphold the vows and the promises we make to others is reflective of who we are as people. I will never break my vows to my husband and especially not with a man I’ve just met who thinks they can buy my affection with an overpriced whiskey!”
“Jennifer, when I want something I go after it, and I never stop until I get it. I understand if you want to leave, or if you find me too forward, but I won’t let up until you’re mine.” He pulled out a business card from his suit pocket and handed it to me. “Call me whenever you want, even if you just want to talk. I’d be delighted to hear from you, any time, any place. I leave San Diego for New York City in the morning.” He let out a sigh of relief. “God it’s going to be nice to get home.”
I took his business card and noted the tasteful, modern design of it. “I’m never going to call you, but if it makes you feel better I’ll keep your card.”
He smiled. “You’ll call.”
I put the card into a secret pocket in my purse. Shocked at his arrogance I headed toward the lobby to meet Susan. She was now alone, running her index finger along the rim of her martini glass. I turned back to look for Damien but he’d disappeared.
Susan’s eyes lit up as I approached. “Tell me everything!”
“Ugh! What an arrogant, cocky son-of-a-bitch! The things that came out of his mouth you wouldn’t believe!”
She laughed. “What’s his story? He looked loaded.”
“He is. Money is not his problem.”
She looked surprised that I’d turned him away; perhaps forgetting that I wasn’t a free spirit like herself. “Then what’s the problem? He’s a knight in shining armor if I’ve ever seen one, and my god was he into you!”
I smiled. “The problem? I’m married.”
“You’re right, that is the problem. You’re married to an asshole.”
“Come on Susan, that’s not what I meant. Please just let it go. I don’t want to feel any worse than I already do.”
“I understand.” She finished her drink. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Yea, I’m ready. I hope Steven isn’t awake when I get back. If he sees me in this dress he’s going to flip.”
“Remember you can always text me if you need anything.” Her eyes caught those of another man at the bar. “Don’t wait up. I’m going to talk to this one.” She winked at me. “Who knows where it will lead, but I’m hoping his bed,” she whispered.
I never understood how she could randomly sleep with a stranger, but more power to her. “Good luck, but with a dress like that you don’t need it.”
Susan meandered toward the dark haired stranger at the bar and I went back to my Toyota Tercel, hesitantly opening the door and firing up the engine. God dammit I didn’t want to go home!
