Torment me.
Kill me.
I wanted her in the worst way and not just because of how fuckable she looked, but because I missed the hell out of her. I hadn't smiled in days. I hadn't really laughed in weeks. I hadn't touched her in forever. But the words she spoke in her house a few days back hurt me, and sometimes I don't heal quickly or forgive easy. In fact, sometimes I can be a stubborn ass.
So I admit that I didn't say much to her over the course of the evening. I gave myself the excuse that she asked for the space. So even though Kat and I were actually talking business, the type of business that might turn everything around for me and the Kings, I may have paid my old friend a little extra attention when I thought Elizabeth was watching. It was a dick move I know, but I did it anyway.
In fact, I was so preoccupied and inside of my own feelings that I didn't even notice just how much Elizabeth was drinking until it was too late. I had eyes on her most of the night, but when I let her out of my sight for one fucking second, it's like the sharks in the room could smell blood in the water and started circling.
That beefed up fucker was about to go to blows with me over Elizabeth, and he hadn't even had a whiff of her pussy yet. I don't think my Duchess has a clue of the effect that she has on men. She thinks I'm blowing smoke up her ass when I tell her that, but it's true. If I could shrink her ass and tuck her away in my pocket all day, God knows I would.
* * *
The deal I'm cutting with Kat is a good one. Not only will I handle the problem she's having with a former line producer at her company, but she's going to retain us to handle various problems with talent at the company. A lot of actors and actresses are nothing but over-indulged children, with a sense of entitlement and money to burn. They get in more trouble than a little bit. It will be my job to get them out of it. It will also get me out of town for a while, which is probably just what I need. Clear my head and get my mind straight, because it seems that all of my insecurities are fucking with me.
My mother's letter brought up a whole lot of shit for me. While her words validated much of what I've always felt growing up, the bottom line is that she still was a shitty mother. Whether she had good reasons or not. Everyone shouldn't be a parent. Sometimes I think bringing me into the world was probably one of the most selfish things she could have done. She was not ready to be a parent and who knows if my real father was. He was never even given the opportunity to find out. Now he's dead. So that's the end of that.
Then there is the other obvious issue glaring me in the face–Joseph. I know that he read the letter. It was opened and taped back. There's no way that he didn't see what my mother wrote. So he must know that he isn't my biological father. Or maybe he's always known.
All of this is making me seriously doubt ever having kids of my own. There's just so many ways to fuck it all up. I wonder if that would be a deal breaker for Elizabeth? No kids. I wonder if just I could be enough for her?
Speaking of Elizabeth, things are still not right between us. I can't put my finger on it, but this isn't just about me giving her the silent treatment for a few days or even about Kat. She's put up a wall. Not a brick wall, but something tantamount to a clear Plexiglas one. A wall where we can clearly see each other, want each other, but we cannot reach out and touch each other. She's pulling back, and I'm pushing hard, but no connection. It's driving me fucking nuts.
I think I better learn how to blow up fucking Plexiglas.
And fast.
Before my blue balls force me to seriously hurt someone.
21
Elizabeth
Ethan: We need to meet.
Me: I told you not to contact me.
Ethan: Then you should have changed your contact information. Maybe there's a reason why you didn't? ☺
Me: Stop texting me.
Ethan: You didn't answer my email so I'm texting.
Me: That was my response to your email. No response.
Ethan: Oh, I thought maybe it just went to your junk folder. ☺
Me: OMG, what do you want Ethan?!
Ethan: Like I said, I need to speak to you. It's about your cousin. Oh, I mean the dude you're fucking.
Me: And f*cking me well.
Ethan: Hopefully he taught you a few things.☺
Me: He's definitely a better teacher than the one I had.
Ethan: Who is this new and improved spitfire?
Me: Someone you need to leave alone.
Ethan: Only after we meet.
22
Elizabeth
I didn't respond any further to Ethan, because it was clear that he was looking to pick a fight, but I have to admit that the exchange between us has me shaken. I didn't respond to his email, especially now that I know that Jade is watching his inbox, and I changed my cell number after moving in with Joseph and Juliette. So the fact that he was able to find my new cell number worries me. While I know that he likely obtained my new number from a mutual friend from Penn or something, the fact that he went through those sorts of hoops to do so is really troublesome.
While Ethan may have completely fooled me about his drug habit last year when we were dating, there are some things about the guy that I think I know for sure. He's not the type to pine away for me or any girl for that matter. Even though we were dating for over a year, I never felt totally secure about our relationship. Ethan is attractive, arrogant and completely full of himself. Typical frat boy. People are naturally drawn to him, including me, and things always came easy for him. Deep down I never felt worthy. I knew there was a strong possibility that he was looking, if not actually messing around, with other girls the entire time we were together. What we had definitely wasn't real, it wasn't healthy, and it wasn't love. It was the complete opposite of everything that I feel for Roman.
So if Ethan is contacting me out of the blue like this, then my gut is telling me that it must be for a legitimate reason. Not to woo me back, but probably for a reason that only he benefits from. He needs something.
You know what they say about curiosity and the cat. Regardless of what we want, it can't be worth jeopardizing my life to find out, because there's no question that Roman would kill me if he ever found out that I met with Ethan. That's if Sloan didn't beat him to it. Roman may rub her the wrong way sometimes, but after all the shenanigans that Ethan has pulled, she really can't stand him. She won't even say his name out loud, just like many of the Harry Potter characters won't say Voldemort's name.
"Every time we bring him up, bad shit happens," she said.
I just can't shake the feeling though, that it isn't just a coincidence that I almost bumped into Shrek one day and then I hear from Ethan the next. The two must be connected in some way, and not in a very good one. I don't want any part of it. I just want to forget about it. So I've decided to ignore both the email and the text.
"You all right?" Blake asks with genuine concern in his voice. He's finishing up some coding while I do a little social media marketing on my laptop.
"I'm fine. Are you almost finished over there?"
He shuts his laptop and turns completely around to face me.
"It's none of my business, but I can see that everything is not all right. I'm a great listener. You've already heard my sad story, so feel free to tell me yours, too."
"This isn't about my boyfriend at all."
"Okay."
I can tell by his tone that Blake doesn't believe me, and I don't even blame him. Roman didn't leave much of a first impression when they first met. The two met at my house. There was a brief handshake, a few hard looks, and then Roman went into the office to make some calls. He told me later that he didn't care for the look of Blake. I was completely embarrassed but Blake was gracious and told me not to worry about it.
Blake probably also doesn't believe me because I'm sure he's overheard me bitching to Sloan about Roman's behavior at the gala as well as the fact that he's now picked up and gone to Miami, the same place that the mysterious family friend K
at lives. So it's certainly more than likely that Blake thinks that Roman is a total asshole, which wouldn't be so off the mark. I'm starting to think he is too. Trouble is I'm in love with the asshole.
"No really," I sigh. "It was just a text I got from an ex."
"You don't have to talk about it, Beth. It's fine. Let's finish this up."
Now I was starting to feel weird. Like Blake thought I was keeping some sort of deep, dark secret.
"He wants to see me," I blurt out. "My ex asked if he could see me."
"Does he want to get back together with you or something?" Blake asks with interest.
"I doubt it, but I didn't really give him the chance to tell me why."
"Well there's probably a good reason why you didn't give him the time of day. I say go with your gut."
"My gut is actually telling me to do the opposite. It's saying that I should find out what he wants. It's my head that's saying hell no. I'm pretty good at holding grudges."
Blake raises an eyebrow at that.
"Is it possible that you still care about this dude?"
"Absolutely not. He's never had my best interest at heart."
"Well why do you think your gut is telling you that the two of you should meet? That seems a little strange if he's a total jerk."
Blake has no idea about the drama I went through last year. I've told so many versions of the story I can't keep track of the lies anymore. I don't want to have to tell another.
"Because I don't think after everything we've been through together, that he would just contact me for no reason."
He's up to something. Plus he mentioned Roman's name.
"Then maybe you should meet with him. It probably can't hurt if you don't have feelings for him."
"It's just not a good idea."
"Is it because of what Roman would think? Is that why you're scared?"
Well sort of, but I think Blake has the wrong idea. He sounds as if he thinks I'm in some sort of abusive relationship. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but I hate that he thinks so ill of him. Sometimes I just wish one person in my life could see Roman the way that I do. The way that he actually is. Imperfect but amazing.
"I'm not afraid of Roman at all, Blake. This is about my ex boyfriend. He and I don't have a good history."
Blake pauses for a moment, takes a sip of his energy drink, then speaks again.
"Well I see things like this. You're totally distracted by this situation. It's affecting your work and probably your personal life. So you should probably just handle it, and get it out of the way. What if I go with you to the meet?"
"Um, that would be above and beyond your call of duty, not to mention a total snoozefest for you."
Blake smiles.
"Would you say that we're friends, Beth?"
"Yes, I'd definitely say that we're friends."
"Then what's so above and beyond the call of duty for a friend to help you out? Especially a friend who works for you? We can make it a working lunch. We meet your ex at a public place. We work. When he comes, I'll continue to work while you two talk. I can even step away to give you two a little privacy, but I won't leave you there alone. I'll just be two steps away. He'd be a fool to try anything shady knowing that I'm there."
Blake is a sweetie. That's all there is to it. Just an all around nice guy. I'm not so sure that I want to pull him into my world of crazy, or if I should go back into it myself. Meeting Ethan would be like a suicide mission. If Roman even got a whiff of it, he'd probably blow up the place to get at Ethan. That's even if I'm still high on his priority list these days.
We've been playing phone tag ever since he decided to go to Miami on his lame work excursion. Something about "getting his head together." I'm not convinced. The only things in Miami are beaches, beautiful girls and Kat. So that's why I may have pressured my aunt to tell me a little more about the woman who practically committed statutory rape when Roman was a kid.
I know that her father is Donald Dixon Jr. and he's a self-made real estate mogul who's been friends with Uncle Joseph since they were around my age. He lived with a woman who is Kat's mother for several years until she left him and moved to Florida. Kat went to live with her mother after graduation, and hasn't left Florida since. She's newly divorced, in the film business, and runs some sort of production company in Miami. Supposedly she's hired Roman to do some work for said company.
Puh-lease.
She's newly single. She's a blast from his past. And she's totally manipulating him. Playing the friend of the family card.
"You're doing an awful lot of overthinking on this. Maybe you should tell your guy about it and ask his opinion. If I were your man, I'd definitely want to know what was going on. Especially if there's some risk involved."
"I can't tell him."
"He'd be angry?"
"Yes."
"And would he have a right to be angry?"
"Probably."
"But you're still considering doing it?"
"Yes."
"Do you love both of them or neither of them?"
"I only love Roman."
"Well why don't you text your ex back, and try asking him again for a phone conversation. Maybe he'll agree to it, and you don't have to physically meet him."
Silence falls between us for a moment. I'm thinking about what I've just admitted out loud to Blake, and God only knows what Blake is thinking about me right now. Probably that I am the worst girlfriend that ever lived.
"I want you to understand that my decision about this has nothing to do with Roman. I'm my own woman, and I make my own decisions. It's just that there's a lot that went down with my ex that makes Roman a bit overprotective. And rightly so. But you're right about one thing; I'm totally distracted by all of this. I need to do something."
I'm assuming Ethan won't be open to just a phone call, because he's already asked to meet with me twice, but I figure it can't hurt to ask. I never actually asked. So I pull out my phone and shoot him a quick text.
Me: I can't meet, but I can talk over the phone. Why don't we set up a call.
A few moments later and I receive a response.
Ethan: No texts. No email. No phone. I have my reasons. I can meet you at our diner on Thursday at 3:00. That time good?
I reread his email several times in an effort to process everything he said. Red flags are flying sky high. No texts, no email, no phone? He sounds like he's in trouble. And what does he mean by our diner. He's in lala land. It's my diner. It was always mine. Not ours.
"What did he say?" Blake asks.
"He said no email or phone and that he'd meet me at a diner we used to go to in college on Thursday. I think I'm going to go. It's a public place and the people know me well there. I should be fine."
"I still think I should go if you're not going to tell anyone."
"Even if I were to tell him, Roman's out of town," I say.
"All the more reason for you to take me up on my offer then."
I'm digging myself an even deeper hole than I was already in. The list of little small truths that I'm keeping from Roman continues to grow.
1. Shrek sighting
2. Ethan email
3. Ethan text
4. Getting Blake involved
Plus Jade is still a wild card out there. I haven't heard anything from her in weeks and it's clearly past her forty-eight hour deadline, so I have no idea when she is going to strike.
On top of everything else, now I've got to deal with this additional problem. Kat. I keep imagining all the things a horny teenaged Roman must have done with the very buxom blond.
I know down in my gut that he'd never be unfaithful to me, even while we're going through a difference of opinion, but I can't help but become emotional over it.
Roman doesn't have a lot of friends. I thought I knew them all. Yet this is the first time I've even heard about him having any sort of long-term friendship with any woman other than Jade. He's never mentioned Kat to me, and maybe he
hasn't for a reason.
"Sure, let's do it," I say to Blake. I need to get my mind off of this Kat person. "We'll have a working lunch like you said. I'll hear him out for ten minutes, and then we'll eat a really yummy turkey burger and start planning what we want to include in the next update for the app."
"Excellent plan."
"All right, now that that's out of the way, can you pass me a can of Red Bull and show me what this line of code actually does?"
Blake grins triumphantly. "You got it, boss lady."
23
Elizabeth
I am freezing.
My eyelids feel dense and heavy like two cast iron skillets.
I want to open them, but I'm not sure that I can. I hear random voices but can't really discern any one in particular. None of them sound familiar to me at all. They're all babbling in some sort of strange foreign language. Using words I've never heard before.
That's when I start to panic.
Where am I?
What's the last thing I remember?
The obvious thing to do would be to start with a visual cue. I work really hard to crack one eye open and regret it immediately, once I notice how bright it is in the room. A room with cream walls, and bright fluorescent lighting across the entire ceiling.
I turn my head gingerly to my left, it feels heavy and very sore, and I notice a stainless steel guardrail. The type of rails you would see attached to a hospital bed. Okay, so I guess I'm in the hospital. Shivering under the thinnest blanket known to man. I know germs multiply in warm environments, but at this rate I'll die from frost exposure. Yet there seems to be something about the frigid temperature which seems to be triggering my memory. I remember being ... cold.
It was raining.
Masterson In Love Page 18
