by Stella
It took all day for me to reach out to her, thinking I had to come up with the perfect words. When I realized I couldn’t just text her to fire myself—since I had to return a large sum of cash—I sent her a message to set up a meeting instead.
She’d insisted I come by tonight. She was eager and believed I had scheduled our next session, but this had to be done in person. Candi assured me Christopher wouldn’t be there and it was safe to come by.
Each mile that ticked by on the drive brought a new level of anxiety that racked me with guilt. But the instant I drove up to her house, guilt turned to anger at the sight of a truck in the driveway. Without even thinking, I backed out and went a block down the street to pull over.
Me: I thought you said Christopher wasn’t going to be there?
Candi: He’s not.
Me: Then whose truck is in the driveway?
Candi: That’s my roommate’s.
Me: So Christopher isn’t there?
Candi: No, silly. Did you leave?
I was losing my mind. If I’d had any doubts about ending things, this just solidified it.
Me: I’m just down the street.
Candi: Come back. I’m waiting for you.
Me: I’ll be there in a few.
If I hadn’t been pulling up to her house, I would have felt like a gangster doing a drive-by creeping my car into her driveway like a ninja. I’d turned my headlights off and moved at a snail’s pace, hoping not to alert her roommate that she had company. I was overly paranoid about someone asking questions and putting my clients in a position to have to lie. This was worst-case scenario; I was already convinced I was about to upset what had proven to be a really nice girl.
I hoped Candi watched for me like she had the first night I came over. Yet the blinds didn’t move and the door didn’t open. I got out of the car as quietly as possible and proceeded to the front door where I knocked lightly. My heart pounded in my chest while I hoped to end this as swiftly and painlessly as possible.
When the door swung open, it wasn’t Candi hovering in the doorway. It was my worst nightmare come to fruition. Chris seemed as shocked to see me standing on the porch as I was to see him. Before I could get any words out, the person I was here to see ducked under his arm and pushed him out of the way.
Her eyes went wide as saucers, and the smile she plastered on her face looked more like constipation than excitement.
“Alex, I’m so glad you’re here for your hair appointment.” She winked with her whole face as though she wanted me to play along. The problem was she hadn’t done it subtly—Chris had witnessed her atrocious attempt at delicacy.
I wasn’t sure which of us was more confused, him or me.
“You want to get your hair done tonight, right?”
If she accentuated “hair” any more blatantly, she might as well just scream, “I’m a liar who thinks you’re fooled.” And holy hell, I had no idea what she was doing with her face, but someone needed to teach the girl you don’t wink with your mouth.
“What the hell, CeeCee?” The look on Chris’s face would have made Satan himself wilt like a violet without water in sweltering heat.
I wanted to shrink back into the shadows and make a break for my car. I was quite certain I could get inside before either of them turned back to face me. Just as I was about to pivot and take off, Candi grabbed my forearm and pulled me past Chris.
Stumbling, I managed to stay upright as she dragged me down the hall and into their bedroom where she closed the door, locked it, and then leaned up against it, completely out of breath. “That was close.”
“Candi—”
“I know, it sucks he’s here, but he won’t bother us. Promise.”
My hands went to the sides of my head to rub my temples. This had turned into a shitstorm of epic proportions.
“Come on, sit down.” She moved to the bed and plopped her butt on it like she was five.
There was no easy way to say any of this, and continuing to pretend like the elephant wasn’t in the living room didn’t work for me. “I can’t stay.”
“What?” The excitement on her face transformed into confusion. “Why not?”
“I’ve already told you, I don’t do couples. Why did you tell me that wasn’t your boyfriend’s truck?”
The smile returned to her perfect lips, and I struggled not to reach out to grab hold of her neck and shake her. “Because it’s not.”
“That’s not Christopher’s truck parked in your driveway? That wasn’t him that answered the door?”
“No, silly goose.” She waved at me like the notion was preposterous. “That’s my roommate, Patrick. Christopher and I don’t live together—yet.”
The room spun with my confusion, and I finally took the seat she’d offered next to her on the mattress. Chris wasn’t Chris to anyone other than me anymore. In Candi’s world, he was Patrick. In the business world, he was Patrick. Only in my world did Chris still exist. Although, now I didn’t have a clue who Christopher was or why there was a picture of my ex with his arm around Candi in the living room of their one-bedroom house. The more answers I got doubled the number of questions I had. None of which I could ask without implicating my history with Chris.
She put her hand on my knee, drawing my attention away from my thoughts. “So if you can’t stay, why did you come by?”
I’d never been good at thinking on my feet. I was that girl who thought of a million things I should have said an hour after the opportunity passed. Now was no different. “I just wasn’t sure this was working.” Now that I knew Christopher and Chris weren’t one and the same, the need to let Candi go as a client no longer existed. “You seemed distracted when we met last.” If she’d been a bright color in the crayon box, she would have picked up on my hesitation, faltering words, and inability to form a coherent thought…luckily, Candi was more of a brown than citrine.
She shrugged. “You said we could meet as many times as we needed to. I just thought it would be nice to get to know you if we were going to be spending time together. I don’t really have any friends here.”
“So you want to keep going?” Shock and dismay lilted my question. If Candi had half a brain, she would have noticed it herself.
“Of course. My situation hasn’t changed…yet.” She patted my knee, and her hand was warm against my jeans. “But it wouldn’t be so bad if we became friends, too.”
Here was the opportunity for me to tell her I knew Chris, explain to her what had made me uneasy, get out the truth about how I ended up doing this in the first place. Instead, I kept my secret close to my heart, nodded, and said, “I’d like that.”
6
Chris
“What the hell, CeeCee?” I had been enraged, although I didn’t have the faintest understanding why. Lexi had come to my house, and I didn’t have to drug and kidnap her to get her here. I should’ve been elated. However, I was not.
“Why are you so mad?”
I’d spent the better part of an hour on the couch while CeeCee and Lexi hung out in my room. Granted, it hadn’t ever really been my room considering I slept on the couch, but still…it was technically my bed. And when they were done chatting about God knows what, Lexi couldn’t even look at me as she darted out of the house.
“Are you kidding me? I told you about Lexi and the next thing I know, you bring her here?”
“Well, yeah. She wanted me to do her hair.”
“In bed?”
She pulled her lips to one side in thought, and then said, “I probably should’ve taken her into the bathroom, huh?”
“If you wanted me to believe your lie, yeah. You also probably should’ve actually done something to her hair.” I wanted to throttle her, yet at the same time, kiss her for bridging a gap I had started to believe would never happen. “Back to why she was here.”
“Fine…but you can’t be mad.” She took the cushion next to me and settled in for what I could only assume would be a very long and drawn-out half-trut
h. “Her friend came into the salon for her regularly scheduled appointment with Jose, only Jose no longer works there. You see, he was fired for—”
“CeeCee…get on with it.”
“Okay, but if you’re confused later, don’t blame me.” She flippantly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “So I decided to invite her over.”
She was a constant headache. “I think you missed a few important parts.”
“Yeah…you told me you didn’t want to hear it.”
“How about you start with when you met her.”
“I’d need a calendar to know for sure.”
“I’m starting to think you do this on purpose. All I want to know is how you two met.”
“To make a long story short…” That was impossible. “She loved what I did with her friend’s hair so much she came in to have me do hers.” That would explain the difference in her hairstyle, which I’d taken notice of but had no idea it’d been a recent change. “We started talking, and now we’re besties.”
“Besties? Yet you neglected to tell me this when I told you all about her a week ago?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know it was her at the time.”
“CeeCee…I showed you her picture.”
“Well, yeah. But before that, I didn’t know.”
I controlled my temper and said, “It was all in the same night.”
“Are we really going to throw stones? I hope not, because I don’t want to kill any birds.”
I seriously couldn’t with this one. “So did you plan this? Having her show up here?”
“I didn’t plan anything. She texted me earlier today and asked if she could come over.”
“You literally just told me you invited her.”
“I don’t recall such a conversation taking place.”
I could’ve argued with her, but that would’ve gone nowhere. Actually, it would’ve gone in roughly three million circles. So I decided against it.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
It took a minute to swallow my irritation before seeing the silver lining. “I’m not happy about being blindsided by her showing up. However, I do see the positives of you two being friends. Although from now on, I’d appreciate it if you included me in your schemes.”
“Deal,” she agreed with a larger-than-normal grin plastered on her face.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, except this time, it wasn’t because of stress or an uncomfortable couch. Excitement had kept me up—knowing I had an ally in my plight to win back Lexi. However, it also caused me to stroll into work in a fog of exhaustion.
I dropped my computer bag next to the desk and tossed my keys inside the top drawer. But as soon as I glanced up, I couldn’t ignore the eyesore on the other side of the room.
“What the hell?” I whispered to myself, confused by what appeared to be a green rug in a place there shouldn’t be one.
It was maybe ten feet long, two or three feet wide, and stretched out parallel to the far wall. Something lay on its side at one end, although I couldn’t tell what it was. Then, the longer I studied it, the more it resembled a coffee cup. I switched my attention to the top of my desk and noticed the mug I kept filled with pens on the corner was missing.
I’d just opened the top left drawer—where I found my pens—when my office door opened. I snapped my gaze to the unexpected visitor, which only served to further perplex me. There stood Carl, uninvited, regarding me with deep concentration lining his brow. He appeared to be baffled as to why I was here…in my office.
When he moved farther into the room, I noticed he held a golf club. He had it casually propped against his shoulder as if this were a country club, not a place of business. Suddenly, the strip of green carpet with my mug at the end made sense. Actually, no. It still didn’t make any sense.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked slowly, remaining where I was without moving.
Carl stepped in front of the makeshift putting green, pulled something from his pocket, and dropped it on the floor. A golf ball. Of course. Then he lowered the putter and lined it up with the open end of the mug on the other side. “Taking a break,” he said without looking up.
Yeah, because that answered everything.
“It’s eight in the morning.”
He picked up his head and blinked at me, his eyes wide as if not understanding what was wrong with this picture. “I wasn’t aware we had specified times to take breaks. The smokers go outside all the time, so if they get ten minutes to do with as they please, why shouldn’t I?”
“Okay, fair enough—aside from the fact that the workday literally just started. Although, you’re not my employee, so I guess it’s not really any of my concern. But why are you taking your break in my office?”
“I wanted to play a little golf to relieve some stress.”
“Again, Carl…and please forgive me for repeating myself, but why here?”
He glanced down at the strip of green beneath his feet, then to the mug at the end, and over to the white ball about three feet to the right of the target. Not sure how he’d managed that considering I’d watched him line it up before hitting it. But that was neither here nor there.
After assessing it all, he met my stare again. “This is where the golf course is. Where else would I be?”
I shook my head, wondering how this made sense to anyone. Still, I figured I’d give him one more chance before I kicked him out and programmed the elevator to refuse him access to the fifth floor. “When I left yesterday, that wasn’t here. I know this because after I shut down the computer and before I grabbed my keys from the drawer, I stuck the pen I was using inside that cup, which sat right there.” I pointed to the empty spot on the corner of my desk. “But when I came in this morning—literally five minutes ago—my mug was gone, the pens that were inside of it were in a drawer, and I found what looks like a rug from the seventies spread out. So I guess my question would be, how did it get here?”
“I put it here.”
This was going nowhere.
“Should I be concerned that you helped yourself to my office while I was gone?”
He looked up in thought, and then said, “Nah.”
It would’ve been convincing if he hadn’t needed to think about his answer. Actually, the only thing that would’ve convinced me that I had nothing to worry about was if none of this had ever happened in the first place.
I was about to say something, tell him he needed to go do whatever it was that he got paid for, but the words stalled on my tongue when he moved around me, grabbed another putter from behind my desk, and said, “Come on, you look like you need a break.”
At that moment, I learned two things about myself.
One: I was not observant at all.
And two: I was in desperate need of companionship.
Because rather than do the adult thing, I took the club from his outstretched hand and followed him to the pathetic excuse for a putting green.
Once I realized his dry sense of humor, I couldn’t help but find him funny. It also dawned on me that if I wanted a real answer, I had to ask more specific questions. “There are seven other offices up here—half of which are empty most of the time. Why choose mine?”
“As entertaining as it is to watch everyone on the second floor scurry like roaches when the light comes on, I thought I’d give them a break and come up here. This way, it’ll save you the trip and give the junior reps a break for the day.”
Taking my turn with the ball, I lined it up and used the time to organize the endless questions his answer gave me. “I wasn’t aware they did that when I showed up.”
“I don’t know how you missed it. Surely you don’t think we all work that hard when you’re not there. If that were the case, I doubt there would’ve been an issue with the site last week.” He made a good point.
“So how exactly are you saving me a trip by coming up here?” I tapped the ball and watched it roll inches away from the opening in the mug.
I stilled and then slowly turned to face him, completely dumbfounded.
“Oh, come on. You show up every day and come to my cubicle. You’re a techie, which means there’s no reason for you to even be on my floor. If you didn’t want it to be obvious, you should’ve made more of an effort to greet everyone—not just me.”
He had to be messing with me.
“You think I stop by to say hi to you?”
“Who else would you be coming to see? Unless you’re secretly checking up on Alex, in which case I’d tell you not to bother.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She’s hung up on her ex.”
I was like a dog who’d heard a whistle. My ears perked up, and he suddenly had my undivided attention. “How do you know that?”
“I asked her out once…or twice. Could’ve been seven times, I can’t remember.” He must’ve anticipated my next question, because he answered it without being prompted. “She totally turned me down, though. I thought maybe the whole ex thing was just an excuse—I mean, there’s no way every woman I ask out has a relationship hang-up. But I digress. I doubt she even remembers the ego-bruising number of times I tried to get her to have dinner with me. It was like four and a half years ago.”
Lexi had turned him down because she wasn’t over me. I waited a moment, allowing those words to sink in. That’s an understatement. They slammed into me like a bus. No, worse. A freight train. Or maybe a bus on a freight train, strapped to a Mack truck carrying a wrecking ball. But before the celebration could begin, his last words stole the wind from my sails.
“That long ago? She can’t possibly still be heartbroken. I mean, I’m sure he was a great guy—good looking, smart, witty, fun, great in bed—but four and a half years is a long time to cry over an old boyfriend…right?”
