by Zoey Parker
Isabella looked hurt again but she left the bathroom. By the time I was done, she was sitting on the bed, fully dressed. The way her blouse squeezed her breasts together was tempting; I felt my cock stirring just from looking at her. She gave me a coy little smile when she realized how I was staring and I had to force myself to look away. No, no matter how tempting Isabella was, I wasn’t going to fuck her again. That would be breaking two of my rules in a single day and I couldn’t have that happen. I’d already let her spend the night. I didn’t want her getting any ideas about the future. Even though she looked more fuckable than ever, I had to resist. My cock twitched in anger when I told it to behave. My appetite for that girl isn’t even close to sated, I thought miraculously. It was like a fucking miracle; most of the time, all a girl had to do was look at me after I’d fucked her before I wanted her to leave. But Isabella was different. The way she stared at me was making me hot all over again, and I knew if I didn’t kick her out quickly, she’d be harder than ever to rid myself of.
“I need to get going,” I said as I dropped the towel from my hips and walked across the room naked. I didn’t look back at Isabella but I could feel her eyes on my body. “You can see yourself out.”
“Oh,” Isabella said. She stood up and stared at me for so long that I turned around to look back at her.
I could tell she wanted to ask me if something had changed, or if something had happened, but I wasn’t going to give her any excuses. I didn’t want her to get any ideas about what was going on between us — absolutely nothing.
Isabella gathered her things with excruciating slowness. I watched as she tugged on her heels and slipped the flat shoes into her worn leather bag. She looked up at me again.
Didn’t you get the hint, honey? I don’t want you here anymore. And no, I’m not going to ask you to stay for coffee.
Isabella sighed slowly and walked downstairs. I listened to the sound of her heels clicking against my marble staircase. When she got to the door, I could tell she was hesitating for a second. But after a few moments, the door opened and closed resolutely behind her. When I walked to the windows and peeked through the blinds, she was standing on the curb, playing with her phone.
My head was aching. I pulled a pair of pajama pants on and trudged downstairs, going through the rote motions of making coffee. For some reason, I felt less elated than usual after a night of great sex. I had a routine after women left: I’d take a drink and go to bed. But since Isabella had stayed the night, I decided I needed a new routine. Just in case this ever accidentally happened again.
I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat down on the couch. From outside, I heard the squeal of tires. By the time I’d walked over to the window and looked out, Isabella had climbed inside the cab. I saw her blue eyes one more time, looking back towards the house, as if she still believed I was going to ask her to stay. Poor girl. I could tell she wasn’t used to having a lot of one-night stands. I didn’t like hurting women, but I wasn’t going let some blonde chick push me around, no matter how good a fuck she’d been.
She’d been a great lay, all right. But now it was over, and it was time to get back to real life.
Chapter 5
Isabella
Eight Weeks Later
I was really bummed about Zane. I knew it was ridiculous to get my hopes up the way I had, but I couldn’t believe a man would be so charming and then go radio silent. It was the kind of thing that happened in movies, but I always wanted to believe real life wouldn’t be like that.
But real life hasn’t been very kind to you, I thought with a twinge of pain. Remember Kyle?
I did remember Kyle, but after Zane, those memories were very foggy and hard to reach. It was as though Zane had pushed him out of my mind, the superior lover. It was hard not to compare the two of them, which was ridiculous because I only knew Zane for a few hours while Kyle and I were together for a long time. But they were both men who only cared about their own agenda, who didn’t give a shit if a woman’s heart got broken in the process. Kyle had only wanted to fuck me, too. He’d just gone about it in a much different way. He’d wined and dined me, whereas Zane just used his raw sexual power to draw me in. Zane was the more honest of the two, I decided, but that didn’t make the hurt any easier to bear. I’d been pouting about it for weeks.
It didn’t help that I dreamed about him almost every night. Sometimes I even thought about finding his house on the other side of town and driving by, just to see if he were home. When I realized how creepy that sounded, I was horrified. But at the same time, I missed him undeniably. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him lurking behind them, waiting for me. Waiting to make me come, to make me scream, to make me his.
When I’d left his place in the morning, I’d called a cab. I kept waiting to see whether or not Zane would come outside and try to stop me from leaving. I knew it was ridiculous, but I wanted him to come and get me, even if it was just to bring me inside to fuck me again. After all, I’d seen the lust on his face in the morning plain as anything. I knew he wanted me again.
Maybe that was why I was feeling so sick. For the past week or two, I’d just been feeling off. Like I had a fever all the time, and my body was sore. I thought I was maybe catching a cold but the irritation never turned into full-blown sickness. Instead I just felt sniffly and nauseous almost all the time.
And now, I was stuck working a double at Maison Bridges. Ricardo had called me yesterday and asked me to take the extra shift. I wished I had an excuse for saying no, but he would know I was lying. And truthfully, I needed the extra money. When I looked in the mirror as I was getting ready, I was horrified. I looked even worse than I had the day before: my hair was stringy and plastered to my forehead and my skin was deathly pale.
“Oh well, maybe he won’t notice,” I said to myself as I dug around for some powder and highlighter in my makeup bag. I spent the next twenty minutes carefully making myself up. When I was finished, I didn’t exactly look healthy, but I looked better than I had.
As I was walking out to the car, I felt another pang of desire for Zane. I couldn’t believe he’d just fucked me and dumped me like that. I’d never been with a guy who had treated me so badly. You keep saying that, a little voice in my head warned me. Did you forget about Kyle?
But Kyle was different. At least Kyle was weak enough to always show much how much he wanted me.
I couldn’t deal with this anymore. Even though I had to be at work in thirty minutes, I pulled out my cellphone. I had to tell someone about what was going on.
“Hello?” Janice’s voice was distant, far-away sounding.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” I said automatically. “I know you probably hate me. I get the award for world’s shittiest friend.”
Janice laughed drily, her smoker’s cough coming through the phone loud and clear. “You’re not that bad,” she said. “I mean, it’s only been, like, a month, Isabella.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “Things have been crazy and I’ve had this cold I can’t shake.”
“What’s going on? Are you free later?”
“I have to work,” I groaned. “A double, if you can believe that.”
Janice snorted. “So, work is killing you?”
“There was a guy,” I said softly.
I heard Janice exhale loudly but she didn’t say anything. I knew she probably disapproved. Our friendship had taken a turn for the worst when I was involved with Kyle. As soon as I’d met him, I’d basically started ignoring my best friend since high school for a sexy guy. Janice had been sour over it the whole time, especially when we broke up and I threw myself back in her arms. But true to form, she’d never once said “I told you so.” She’d just held me and let me cry out the hurt and the pain. Now, whenever we talked, she jokingly told me not to get involved with another scumbag.
Already, I was regretting the call.
“Oh, yeah? Mr. Handsome and Charming?”
I laughed. “Well
, he was really sexy. But we had an amazing night together and then he kicked me out. And I haven’t heard from him since.”
“That’s how men are,” Janice said. “He just wanted a one-night stand. If he never told you he wanted anything else, that’s all it was.”
I pouted. “But he made me leftovers. His family’s lasagna. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“It means he wanted you think he’s a nice, caring guy. Or maybe he just wanted to get rid of the food. You can’t read into this shit, Isabella. You know what kind of damage it’s gonna do.”
I sighed. “I know. He was just so…so perfect. I’ve never met anyone else like him.”
“Probably some greasy mafia loser,” Janice cracked.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry, Isabella. You know I didn’t mean it,” she said in a disaffected way that made me think she was still sore over the whole Kyle thing. “But you let yourself be picked up by these assholes. You can’t be surprised if they start treating you like this. Isabella, you know better than that. You’re a smart girl. Your momma raised you right.”
I fingered the gold locket at my throat that my mother had given me. My dad had died when I was a baby and the locket was all I had to remember him by. Mom had always been vague about Dad. She’d told me to respect myself, and not to get into relationships with guys who didn’t respect me. But here I was, zero for two. I didn’t think Mom would be especially proud of what happened.
But there was no way of finding out. Mom had died of lung cancer shortly after I’d graduated from high school. Janice had helped me through that. She was the daughter of mom’s best friend. Three years older than me, she’d gone to community college and finished, and now she was a hairdresser. We couldn’t be more different. Janice was the more stereotypically Italian, dark-haired girl with a dark complexion. I realized with a slight shock that she could have been Zane’s sister. Janice had two brothers, Tommy and Marco. They were both auto mechanics. I hadn’t seen them in a few years, but I bet with absolute certainty that they both could have put on sunglasses and hopped in a Porsche and looked just like Zane. I shuddered.
“You okay?” Janice’s voice sounded annoyed.
“I’m fine,” I muttered. “I have to get ready for work. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Like when another guy breaks your heart?”
I sighed. “No, we’ll get together for real. How about in a couple of days?”
“Sounds good,” Janice said. I could tell she didn’t really believe I was going to call her. “We should have supper or something.”
“Sounds good,” I echoed back to her.
Then we hung up. I turned the ignition in my car and pointed my car towards Maison Bridges. It didn’t feel like I’d been on the phone with Janice for very long but I saw with a groan that I was going to be a few minutes late.
My stomach sunk when I drove into the parking lot. As luck would have it, Ricardo was in the middle of a smoke break. He glared at me when I stepped out of my car.
“Isabella, if you look that shitty all night, I’m going to send you home,” Ricardo threatened. “You look horrible. You’re gonna scare away the customers!”
I felt a cramp in my belly and clutched at my stomach. “I’m fine,” I lied through gritted teeth. “No one’s gonna get scared away.”
Ricardo laughed drily. “What about that guy you were talking to a few weeks back? I haven’t seen his face again.”
I pouted. Without replying, I let myself in the front door and ducked into the ladies’ to check my hair and makeup. When I saw my reflection, I gasped. Somehow, I looked even worse than I had before I’d put makeup on that morning. My skin looked puffy and greenish, like I was filled with some kind of dough that was slowly rising to the surface. My blue eyes looked beady and small, and I could see dark circles under my eyes. This is all because of you, asshole, I thought. Stupid Zane. Stupid Zane and his stupid Porsche and his stupid, amazing body.
“Hey, girl,” Tammy greeted me. She was a petite brunette waitress who I shared a lot of time with on shift with. “How are you?”
“Can’t you tell?” I turned away from the mirror with a grimace on my face. “I feel like shit.”
“You look fine,” Tammy said breezily. She went into a stall and I heard her humming to herself as she unzipped her jeans and squatted on the toilet. I heard the tinkle of urine, followed by a loud flush. Seconds later, Tammy re-emerged. She pulled a face at me.
“You okay?” I eyed her suspiciously. “You look like you got some bad news.”
Tammy frowned. “You got a tampon? My period’s early and I didn’t bring anything.” She gestured to her tiny purse. “I hate to ask,” she said again. “But I’d really appreciate it. I don’t think Ricardo’s in the mood to let me go home.”
I blinked at her. Suddenly it felt like someone had poured a bucket of cold water all over my head. “What?”
Tammy narrowed her dark eyes. “A tampon,” she repeated. “You do know what a tampon is, right?”
I felt a hot, red blush covering my face. “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
Tammy laughed. She started chattering away and I zoned out after the second word. A tampon. I dug through my purse, frantically aware that I hadn’t had my period in what seemed like forever.
“Here,” I said as I thrust out a plastic-wrapped tampon. “This is the only one I have, sorry.”
“No sweat. I’ll just go to the drugstore on my break. Thanks again,” Tammy said, plucking it from my fingers and waltzing back into the stall, humming under her breath.
My heart was hammering in my chest. My period! God, how could I possibly have forgotten about it? What the hell had happened? Was I…? God, no. I couldn’t be. I frantically pulled out my planner and started counting backwards. An alarming number of pages passed before I found the last red dot marked on them. With a sinking feeling, I recognized the date. It was the day before I’d met Zane, the day before I’d gone home with him. My last period had stopped the day before I met Zane. The realization hit home like a ton of bricks. A wave of nausea passed over me, too strong to ignore. I didn’t even stop to think about the birth control pills I was taking — I knew in the back of my mind that I missed the occasional pill. After all, I was almost never with a man anymore. But evidently, I should have been a little more attentive.
Rushing into the stall next to Tammy, I barely had time to flip the seat cover up before puking into the white toilet bowl.
“Oh, my God,” I heard her say in disgust. “Are you pregnant?”
Chapter 6
Zane
“Jake, you got any news for me?” I leaned against the counter and eyed my best friend. “I’m hopin’ to hear somethin’ good.”
Jake shook his head. The light reflected off his greased-back hair. “I ain’t heard nothin’,” he said. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I turned away from the counter. I’d been trying to set up a big coke deal for over a month now. My father, Lionel, had tasked me with it and I knew his approval was waiting on me getting the job done. Until I could fix this, I had no chance of taking over after him one day. The coke deal was going to be the biggest the family had ever organized. I was supposed to arrange for over a ton of cocaine to be trafficked into New York, all from humble little Morris, New Jersey. It was a deal that was really going to put me on the map, and I couldn’t wait to be involved.
“So, you know when you’re gonna hear something?”
Jake shook his head. “Sorry, man, I can’t tell you. I don’t know.” He shrugged at me and I felt a fresh wave of irritation pass over me.
“If you can’t get this shit straightened out, Lionel ain’t gonna pass the business into my hands.”
Jake nodded. “I know your pa’s the boss, but if I can’t make it happen, I can’t make it happen.” He shrugged at me again. “Try again in a few days.”
Muttering angrily under my breath, I kicked my
boot at the scuffed linoleum. Jake worked part-time in an auto parts store off the main highway outside of Morris. He supposedly had some Russian contacts who were looking to unload a few kilos of cocaine, and we were supposed to grab as many as possible for the big drop. But now I wasn’t even sure that was a possibility. After all, if Jake wasn’t gonna deliver, the deal was off.
My mood got even blacker as I slid behind the wheel of my car and drove to my father’s house. Lionel Ricci, lived in a big house outside of town. My mom died back when I was a little kid, and Dad never remarried. He had girlfriends who hung around; after a few years, he’d switch the current girl out for someone younger. But right now, I didn’t care about how he let my mother’s memory disappear. Right now, I was only concerned with the future.
Lionel had been sick for almost a year now. I suspected he had some kind of bad cancer — he had a lot of doctor’s appointments and almost never seemed to look better. But he didn’t talk to me like that; we didn’t have that kind of relationship. Even though I’d grown up in his house, he hadn’t been the one who raised me. He’d always hired people, nannies and tutors and shit. And then when I was old enough, he sent me off to boarding school in Upstate New York. So, I hadn’t been around the man in my formative years. I never talked to him about how it felt to get drunk for the first time, or how it felt to stick my fingers inside the lacy cups of Mary Prezzioso’s bra and feel her hard nipples. No, that kind of talk was saved for my buddies.
