Temporary

by Alexx Andria

  “There’s something you should know about me,” I told him, bracing myself against the countertop as I pinned his gaze. “I hate mysteries and you’ve set yourself up as one big question since walking into my bar. I will figure you out, whether it’s now or later, but it will happen.”

  He barked a derisive laugh. “Oh, really? And why would you want to figure me out?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered but that wasn’t entirely true, I was just embarrassed to admit the truth because it seemed ludicrous. “I just want to.”

  But damn Gage for being too perceptive. “Are you saying you’ve caught feelings?” he mocked, causing my cheeks to flush. “You wouldn’t even have a drink with me until I paid you. That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement for true emotion.”

  “I wouldn’t have a drink with anyone because I was still hating myself over what’d happened with Landon. I would’ve turned down Channing Tatum.”

  But Gage didn’t believe me. I guess I could understand his point. The money had been the catalyst and I couldn’t deny it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving away my explanation. “I’m not in the market for a girlfriend so let’s drop it.”

  I wasn’t going to let it go. “Just tell me…why me?”

  Irritation sharpened his voice. “Because I liked your ass. I already told you that.” I might’ve bought his excuse before, but not now. When I held his gaze, daring him to cling to the lie, he growled, “What the fuck is this? I don’t have to explain my reasons. I wanted to fuck you. It’s nothing deeper than that. Leave it, Mari.”

  “I know you’re not telling me something,” I pressed, following him. “Are you afraid that I won’t understand? Give me a chance, Gage. I’ve been hurt, too. I’m willing to listen.”

  His cold smirk cut me. “Baby, don’t flatter yourself. I’ve had better therapists than you try to dig into this head and failed. I’m not in a sharing mood, okay? Get your stuff together, the driver will be here in a half-hour.”

  And just like that, an iron curtain slammed down between us.

  Maybe I should be grateful. Why was I pushing so hard for answers that I probably wouldn’t like?

  What if he was telling the truth and he really did pick me up on a whim because he liked my ass?

  I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, hating how cheap and disposable Gage had made me feel.

  Everything about Gage raised questions but the one thing that was solid was the way I felt when wrapped around him.

  I wasn’t the kind of person to spout love poetry or go on meme hunts for sappy love quotes but he created those feelings in me as if he’d simply been the key needed to unlock the warm and fuzzies.

  Did I want that? Did I want to open myself to someone like Gage with the way he was acting?

  God no.

  Maybe this was a blessing. Just go home, forget this ever happened. Focus on putting your life back together.

  Was that even possible?

  I guess I would find out.

  13

  Home.

  It’d only been twenty-four hours and yet everything felt different. My apartment felt like someone else’s, not mine.

  Sure, I remembered buying the sofa at a downtown thrift store and lugging it up two flights of stairs with the help of a junkie I’d found to help me in exchange for a few bucks.

  And yes, I totally remember picking up my reading chair from the sidewalk when someone had pinned a free sign on it but, it still didn’t feel like mine anymore.

  It was kinda like when you move away from home and then returned to your childhood room for a visit and while everything looks the same, it’s somehow not the same.

  Maybe it’s because while the room stayed the same, you didn’t.

  Had my time with Gage changed me so much? How was it possible?

  Miss Switch came trotting over to me, mewling plaintively for food and I scooped her up, grateful for my kitty to grant some semblance of normal in my topsy-turvy life.

  After dishing up some food for my prissy kitty, I settled onto the floor beside her to watch her enjoy her feast, while I wondered how I was going to move forward.

  Especially when I wasn’t careful, I found myself replaying my short, explosive time with Gage over and over.

  Was this how obsessions started? I doubt anyone set out to become obsessed with someone or something. Seemed like a lot of work for very little reward.

  So, if I were smart, I’d just wash my hands of the entire experience, chalk it up to a weird sexual adventure, and move on.

  I had the freedom to relax, thanks to the healthy number of zeroes in my bank account so I should be spending less time moping and more time planning my next move.

  But the weird thing was…as much as I should’ve been delighted by the money…I wasn’t.

  I kept hearing Gage’s comment about him having to pay me before I would accept a drink with him.

  It was true and I hated that the money had motivated me.

  I liked to think I was above such petty bullshit but if I’d learned anything, it was that desperation had a tendency to weaken previously held ideals.

  If I’d known that Gage was actually pretty cool to hang out with, I would’ve accepted the offer of a drink the first time he asked.

  Maybe that would’ve changed things between us. Maybe he would’ve trusted that I’m not a gold-digger, just looking to get paid.

  Even I knew it was an uphill battle to convince someone of something different when you were actually guilty of their first impression.

  First impressions were a bitch, yo.

  “Well, he shouldn’t have made the offer if he was just going to use it against me later,” I told Miss Switch, sliding my hand down her silky fur, her booty bouncing up in response. I chuckled, adding, “Yeah, that’s what I looked like, too, when Gage did his thing.”

  Did it matter that Gage had secrets he didn’t want to share? I supposed not.

  I tried to hold onto that truth but another voice was screaming the opposite, it does matter!

  Because it mattered to me.

  Climbing to my feet, I went in search of my high school yearbook.

  I vaguely remembered a Donnelly — we didn’t hang in the same circles but it was a small enough school that the name struck a bell — and I wanted to see if there was any resemblance to the Donnelly I went to school with and Gage.

  I know, total long shot, but I had to do something.

  I found my yearbook, dusted it off, and flipped through the pages. Ahh, nostalgia. I lost myself for a few minutes in memories, chuckling at some of the ridiculous statements made by kids who hadn’t had a clue what life had in store for them, and finally found the Donnelly kid.

  Dustin Donnelly, a freshman when I was a senior, so definitely not in my peer group.

  Dark hair, similar to Gage, but really that was a stretch, right?

  I chewed my lip, wondering. I flipped to the index where the index of students featured on which pages were listed. Dustin Donnelly was only listed once and that was the class page.

  True, he’d been a freshman and the yearbook staff tended to cater to the upper classmen for candids but he wasn’t listed on any sports or clubs sections either.

  Maybe he was a loner.

  But judging by the bright smile in his picture, I didn’t buy it. Kids with social issues didn’t tend to ham it up for the camera.

  And this kid…he was definitely grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  Great. I closed the yearbook. Another mystery.

  I hesitated before grabbing my phone. Tara might’ve known Dustin Donnelly but the last time we spoke, well, it hadn’t been a Hallmark moment.

  My sister and I were polar opposites. She was the brainy one — the one most likely to make decisions based on logic and reason — and definitely not likely to sell her vagina to make rent.

  Okay, so…maybe I won’t mention that little fact.

  I might have to preface the conversation wit
h an apology.

  I might’ve called her a stuck-up twat with an ass so tight she could go into the diamond business if her accountant husband dumped her and she needed cash.

  Yeah, not my finest moment.

  I shouldn’t have said it. Plain and simple. If it counts for anything, I felt bad and I’d planned to call to apologize but then the whole Landon thing happened and I wasn’t about to admit that I’d been so grievously fucked over by my boyfriend.

  Especially when…Tara hadn’t been a fan of Landon and had warned me that he’d seemed shady.

  I dropped my head into my hands. How did one become such a colossal fuck-up?

  Miss Switch wandered into my bedroom, purring as she flopped beside me as if to say, “Honey, self-loathing is so 2000-and-late. Now pet me.”

  I obliged and scratched behind her ears. She showed her appreciation by biting me.

  “Even my cat is an asshole,” I muttered, peering at the tiny pricks in my skin. “Should I drop it?” I asked Miss Switch. “Am I being stupid for wanting to figure this damn mystery out? What if I do find answers to my questions and nothing changes? Maybe Gage is just a messed up bag of beans and I’m better off forgetting about him.”

  All that could be true.

  Wouldn’t change my need to know.

  I was my own worst enemy.

  Rising, I put my yearbook back into the tiny closet and closed the door. I needed to officially quit at Jimmy’s and collect my last check.

  Then, I would try and decide what to do with my life.

  But for now…I think I needed to pound the pavement. Grabbing my running shoes, I dressed quickly and went out the door.

  14

  Here goes nothing…

  Chin lifted high, I walked into Jimmy’s, but this time the bar was hopping, as it should be on a Sunday night. The regulars liked one last hurrah before the weekend ended, because starting the work week with a wicked hangover was fab.

  Sasha saw me first and hustled over, puzzled when I wasn’t dressed for my shift. “Everything okay? What the hell happened last night? Manny called and said I had the night off ‘cuz the bar was closed? Oh God, please tell me we weren’t shut down again…”

  I answered with a shake of my head, starting with, “You know that guy who wanted to buy me a drink?” Sasha nodded. “Well, he bought the bar for the night. Guess he was real serious about that drink.”

  Sasha’s eyes widened with shocked delight. “That’s FREAKING awesome. Tell me all about it!”

  But I didn’t want to tell anyone just yet. Maybe never, honestly. “He was nice,” I answered vaguely, casting a brief smile before heading for Manny’s office.

  “Just nice? Oh, come on…I need more details than that. You’re holding out on me.”

  I was holding out but how was I supposed to put into words how my night had transpired? Hell, I’d lived it and I didn’t quite believe it had happened.

  “I gotta talk to Manny.”

  Sasha gave me a thumbs up and went to start her shift. I paused to stare after her, pinched by something close to sadness when I realized, I would miss that goofy kid. She deserved better than this dump but she’d probably find some regular, fall in love, and scratch out some kind of life with a man who treated her like shit and left her with a few kids hanging off her hips.

  Ugh. I’m such a damn pessimist.

  I girded my loins for the inevitable awkwardness between me and Manny and walked into his office. I barked a sudden laugh when I saw he’d wasted no time in making some purchases with his sudden cash influx.

  “You like it?” he asked, preening in his God-awful teal suit that probably cost a fortune because it was so damn ugly. “Pretty uptown, eh?”

  “Very,” I said dryly. Manny, you dumb sonofabitch, you could’ve dropped some cash into your business instead of your threads but whatever. “I came to give you notice. I’m quitting.”

  Manny chuckled as if he’d seen it coming, producing my check and sliding it over to me. “I figured. You’d be stupid to walk away from that cash cow, baby. A man like dat…he could make your life real comfortable. Besides, you gotta use what God gave ya, you know?”

  My cheeks burned but I simply nodded. I wasn’t about to get into a debate about how inappropriate it was for him to give me advice about anything when he was dumber than a box of rocks.

  I opened the envelope, more out of habit than need, and fought the laugh. Yeah, there’s no way I could’ve paid my rent with this check. Hell, this paltry check wouldn’t even cover my electric bill. “Thanks Manny,” I said, going to the door.

  As I crossed the floor, I was seized with an irrational urge to drag Sasha out with me but it was hard as fuck to save someone from themselves. I should know. I’d resisted everyone’s good advice when I’d been determined to be an idiot.

  Maybe, at some point, I could come back for her. Somehow, someway.

  Or maybe I’d just walk away from everything and everyone associated with my failed New York gig.

  But, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

  I pulled Sasha away from her table with a small smile. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” I said, fighting tears that came from nowhere. “I just quit.”

  “You what?” Sasha stared, confused. “What do you mean? Did you get a better job somewhere else? And, OH MY GOD, I’m going to miss you so much!”

  I wiped at my eyes, laughing. “I am going to miss you, too.” I gripped her shoulders to stare into her eyes, to make sure some part of her psyche was hearing me as I said, “Please don’t fall for some regular here. This is a dead end. Go back to school, get a degree, find out what makes Sasha special before you hook your wagon to some guy who looks good in ripped jeans, okay?”

  Sasha giggled. “You’re always so serious.” Then she surprised me with a kiss on the cheek, saying, “I promise I won’t fall in love with some guy from a bar. But a chick with a fat ass and a sweet perky set of boobies, might totally turn my head.”

  I gasped. “Sasha…you’re gay? How did I miss this?”

  She laughed as if I were silly. “Well, I’d say definitely bi. I like a variety of flavors, you know? I don’t advertise it but if you were ever in the market…I’d cuddle up to you pretty quick. Why do you think I always made sure Manny scheduled us together?”

  Sasha had a crush…on me!

  “I am super flattered,” I admitted with an embarrassed laugh. Talk about being blind to the signals. So much for thinking my gay-dar was pretty sharp. I refocused, adding, “Well, same advice applies…no falling for idiots, whether they have a fat ass and great tits, okay?”

  “Deal.” Sasha agreed, her eyes twinkling. “So…you’re really leaving?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been stagnant here. Time to find a new way to pay the bills. Maybe one that doesn’t include dodging fat fingers trying to squeeze my ass.”

  “What happened to you?” Sasha asked, seeing more than I realized. “You’re different.”

  I tried to laugh off her assessment but it was true. I was different. And it was a positive thing.

  I reached into my purse for my phone. “Give me your PayPal address,” I said.

  Puzzled but curious, Sasha rattled off her address. I logged into my account and sent her a fat sum of cash. Sasha’s phone buzzed at her back pocket, signaling a notification. “What are you doing?” she asked, shaking her head, then her eyes bugged when she read the notification from PayPal. “What the fuck? Did you win the lottery or something?”

  “Something like that,” I answered. “Look, I want you to really think about your future and what it means if you end up in this dump for longer than a year. Please tell me you’ll call me if you ever need me.”

  Sasha nodded in awe. “Yeah, I will. Are you sure you can afford giving me that much money? Jesus, there’s a pair of Louboutins with my name on them!”

  “Girl, don’t blow it on shoes,” I warned, shaking my head. “Do something that will benefit you in the long run, not the short t
erm, okay?”

  She nodded and I felt like some kind of advice guru.

  Here I am, a total fuck-up, passing out life advice like pellets from a Pez dispenser. Go you.

  I hugged Sasha one last time and when she held on a moment longer than necessary I just chuckled to myself how blind I’d been. Sasha was going to be fine. She was smarter than she let on and maybe that was her secret weapon.

  Lord knows, we all need one to survive in this world.

  15

  There was something to be said for busy work if you needed to keep your mind from spinning.

  After paying off all my debt — and purchasing a few overdue birthday presents for my niece and nephew — I cleaned out my apartment of all the crap, and I mean, literally crap, that I owned and actually bought new furniture.

  I didn’t realize how much buying something new —not new to me — but actually new, could bring so much joy.

  But as I admired my sweet new sofa, appreciating how it didn’t have any creepy crawlies to chase away like my last one, the happiness didn’t last as long as I though it would.

  My thoughts inevitably went straight to Gage. I ended up not calling my sister to see if she remembered Dustin Donnelly. I figured the knowledge — whether there was a connection or not to Gage — wouldn’t do me any good.

  It’d been a week since my night with Gage and I haven’t heard nor seen him since.

  Not that I was expecting any different. He’d pretty much told me he wasn’t looking for anything real or lasting.

  But…I won’t lie…I’d thought for sure we’d shared a connection.

  Even to my own ears, my admission sounded corny. If someone had mournfully told me the story that was tripping around my brain, I’d judge them pretty hard.

  Who fell in love with someone after one night? That sort of thing made for great fairytales but in reality…yeah, not so much.

  Insta-love was reserved for insta-idiots.

  But I was still feeling the aftershocks. At night I relived his touch in my dreams, my swollen clit aching with need as I awoke to an empty bed.