The Dirty Version

by Hadley Quinn

  “It’s fine. I think I needed the sleep.”

  He nodded but seemed to be waiting for me to say more.

  “I’m really sorry about last night.”

  “None of that was your fault. The only thing that concerns me is that it’s clear it wasn’t the first time.”

  “So I lose my job and that’s nothing to be concerned about?” He gave me a look, letting me know I was adding more than was necessary. “I didn’t mean it that way,” I mumbled. “I’m just pissed.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your job, but I’m more worried about why you lost it. How long has this been going on with him?”

  Grudgingly, I summarized the issues with Chris, making a point that it was only the second time I’d actually seen him, and that I’d planned on telling Josh about it last night.

  “Last night, huh?” he repeated, as if he didn’t believe me.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yes, last night. But we talked about your dinner party thing instead.” I’d spoken like it was a bad thing but hadn’t meant it that way. “I’m happy about that,” I corrected, “but we just didn’t get to what I’d planned on telling you.”

  He motioned to the chairs. We sat, and I made a comment about how nice the patio looked with new furniture and the grill all ready to go. It made me want to have a barbecue.

  “That’s the plan.” He might have said more but reverted back to Chris. “Do we need to go a step further with this guy?”

  He was completely serious, and although I felt the need to inform him that Chris had never hurt me physically, my thoughts drifted to the last two times I’d seen him. He’d become a different person, or at least, his true colors were starting to show.

  “I honestly don’t think so,” I admitted. “But I don’t know what’s going on with him. The worst happened; I lost my job. The fucker got his wish.”

  “What exactly did he say to you?”

  I’d just summed up both accounts briefly but went into more detail about the words exchanged when Chris had shown up at Timeout each time. Saying it aloud only confirmed what I’d felt the night before: Chris was seriously hoping I’d need him again?

  And now I was without income. I had enough saved for a couple months on my own, but then what? What if I couldn’t find another job?

  And what if Chris really did keep harassing me in public?

  Inwardly, I groaned. I wanted to feel sorry for myself by questioning why me but knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  I stood. “I need to go back home, do a job search, shower…” I sighed, as if that was conclusion enough.

  Josh’s face held a dour expression while we entered the house. He mentioned I could shower there, and he’d find something for me to wear—I could also use his computer—but I declined.

  “I just need to regroup.”

  “And you can’t do that here?”

  I paused as I was putting my shoes on. He seemed dead serious, almost hurt that I wanted to leave. But I just felt…lost. Out of sorts. I needed some time on my own, with my own things, in my own place.

  “You probably have to go to work, right?” I asked.

  “Took the day off.”

  “Now see?” I countered, using that as leverage. “You can’t be doing that. I’m a big girl, you shouldn’t have done that.”

  “And I’m a grown-ass man, Jo. I can make my own decisions. If I need to take a day off to be with you, then I damn well will. And while we’re at it, maybe you should just move in here with me for good.”

  The collecting of my purse was put on hold as I stared at him. “What?”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Why not?”

  Why not? Oh, why not just move in with a guy I’d been dating for a few months? Was it really that much of a non-issue for him?

  “That’s all the reasoning you have?” I asked. “Why not?”

  If he were a chick, he might’ve rolled his eyes. Instead, I got that frustrated man look, like I was being an overdramatic female.

  That pissed me off.

  “I don’t need a hero,” I snapped at him. “I don’t need a man to save me.” I grabbed my purse along with the keys that had been placed next to it, and stormed out the door.

  ~

  “All I care about is that you’re okay,” Anna expressed over the phone again. “And seriously, Jo, I can get your job back.”

  My earlier words that I’d spit at Josh resonated in my head. I don’t need a man to save me. I scoffed to myself. Apparently, that included women, too.

  “I’m fine, Anna. I have something I’m looking into right now.” She didn’t seem convinced, and when I wouldn’t go into detail, I think she was peeved. “I have to hang up because I have an interview.”

  She reluctantly agreed but was still annoyed I wouldn’t tell her who I was interviewing with. It wasn’t an interview, exactly—just a meeting—but it was still something I wasn’t sure about.

  Yes, I’d agreed to meet with Leesa Summers. After doing plenty of research on publishing companies, literary agents, contracts and then some, I felt equipped to face her with enough knowledge to give me peace of mind. I still didn’t plan on agreeing to anything, but my curiosity got the better of me.

  Plus, in light of what had happened at Timeout, I was without a job and in need of a different course. I’d still sent my resume out to three different restaurants and one receptionist job, but I was resolute in giving myself as many options as possible.

  I was determined to stand on my own two feet without anyone’s help.

  I met Leesa at a coffee shop down the street. She was nothing like what I’d pictured, but I told myself to quit making assumptions in the first place. Harlan was an absolute stunning specimen; his aunt was somewhat plain and conservative, and very American. I shouldn’t have pictured the sexy librarian type to begin with, but Harlan’s striking exterior had swayed me.

  But…I really liked Leesa. Her personality was friendly and upfront. She also had the frankness that her nephew exhibited, and I told her so. She chuckled and said that Harlan was “a very unique individual,” and where that could be made to sound somewhat dubious, I knew she meant it to be a compliment.

  When the friendly chitchat naturally died down, Leesa said, “I’d like to discuss your blog. Could you tell me more about it?”

  Assuming she meant my reason for starting it and why I write what I write, I gave her a brief summary.

  “So everything in your work is all truth?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted to hear or not. I cleared my throat, feeling a bit of embarrassment creep up, knowing she’d read every word. “Um, yes, it’s all true.”

  Her smile surprised me. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”

  “It’s nothing I ever meant to share with anyone. It’s always been my personal outlet.”

  “But you do share it,” she pointed out.

  “Uh, yes, but it’s anonymous. Nobody knows who I am or where I live. I like it that way.”

  She slowly nodded. “And what if that changed?” I didn’t answer right away, so she continued. “What if people did know who you were? What if they were able to see a face to the stories? What if this book were to circulate through every bookstore in the country? Every continent?”

  I swallowed. “What?”

  “Jo—I can call you Jo, right?” When I nodded, she added, “Your work is superb. We love it.”

  “We?”

  “Myself and everyone in my agency. I already have a publishing company in mind that would truly be a great fit for you. Your work would make for a phenomenal book.”

  I couldn’t process the information. Book? They wanted to turn it into a book?

  She slid a few sheets of paper across the table. “This is for you to look over. It’s an offer. And if you let me be your agent, I promise I’ll get you every penny you deserve.” She slipped another few sheets on top, indicating it was a contract to work with her. “And if you have any questions later
on, here’s my card.” She placed it on top. “Take your time looking it over.”

  It was straightforward—I only had a few questions—but it wasn’t the terms that baffled me.

  “You seriously want me to go on a book tour?” I exclaimed.

  Yes, she honestly felt the book would do that well. A book. They wanted to print my silly little blog as a book. With a signing tour.

  And the title?

  Death of a Mediocre Marriage, just as I already had it.

  ~32~

  “Well, it’s true,” my brother stated drably. “She’s a cheating bitch.”

  I sighed as I switched my phone to the other ear. “I’m sorry, Drew. But I’m glad you found out sooner instead of later.”

  He scoffed. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry for being insensitive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because of what you went through being married and all that, dealing with this kind of thing. I can only imagine how much worse that is.”

  “Meh, don’t worry about it. It’s in the past, I learned, and I’m moving forward.”

  “Are you? Because I hope so. How are things with Josh?”

  I knew he still adored Josh, but in that older-and-wiser manly sort of way now. However, I didn’t know how to answer his question. It’d been a week since I’d left Josh’s house, and although we still spoke on the phone and attended his new facility’s grand opening together, something felt unresolved.

  “We’re good,” I answered. “I’m still feeling a bit cantankerous because of what happened at the bar, but it’ll sort out.”

  His pause said more than I knew his words ever would.

  “I’m serious, Drew. I just need some time to adjust.”

  “Okay,” he reluctantly sighed. “But Josh is a good guy, Jo. And he’s over the moon for you.”

  Over the moon? I snickered to myself, amused that my little brother would use such a phrase. But I only agreed with him and said I felt the same way about Josh. He seemed to question me, so I straight up asked, “Okay, what’s going on? Did he say something to you?”

  “I can’t lie to you, so yes.” My brother was such a softy, he’d probably promised Josh he wouldn’t say anything unless I specifically asked. “He’s just worried about you, sis. And he’s crazy about you. And…I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you, so don’t be a dumbass.”

  I’m not sure if I responded or not, because his words echoed in my head. And I also remembered Josh admitting he’d loved me in high school, although I felt that was different than being in love with someone.

  “I gotta go,” Drew said. “I’m working out at Josh’s new facility today. It’s freaking awesome, Jo. And that guy is a god around here. I saw Eddie Pruitt, can you believe that? Eddie Pruitt trains with Josh. He works with celebrities, and I’m a nobody, but here I am.”

  I smiled at my brother’s enthusiasm and said parting words. His excitement made me happy, though, and I decided to make a trip to Berkeley. I hadn’t been to the facility since the dinner and ceremony the Friday before.

  And Eddie Pruitt had been there, baseball star and product endorsement phenom. Josh had proudly introduced me as his girlfriend to Eddie and a myriad of other people. It was a fascinating achievement for Josh, and I was extremely proud of his success.

  But I didn’t see him as a celebrity trainer/therapist, and luckily, neither did he. Josh was special in his own right, and I realized I was letting my pride interfere with our relationship. There was no drama with him; what we had was solid and there was no dancing around with immature matters. I loved that about him, which is why I felt so embarrassed about the whole ordeal with Chris.

  And I knew I needed to be honest with my boyfriend. He deserved that, and I wanted him to know I trusted him.

  After checking in with the receptionist, I waited for the results of her call to Josh’s office. He appeared a minute later, surprised to see me.

  “You can just come straight back,” he said, giving me a kiss and then glancing at the receptionist to give her the okay. She flashed him a fake smile but eyed me when he turned his back. “What’s that?” he asked, motioning to my hand as we walked down the hall.

  “Food. I probably should have asked you first, but I brought lunch.”

  “I was just about to grab something, so your timing is perfect. But your brother just left. You barely missed him.”

  “He was pretty excited to be here.”

  “Oh? You talked to him?” I recapped most of our conversation and Josh nodded. “Yeah, he told me about Brianna. Hard not to say, ‘I told you so,’ but I think he was handling it okay. Unless it was just a front?”

  I pursed my lips in thought. “Mmm, I think he was fine with it. As fine as he could be, I guess.”

  I was also glad I didn’t have to conspire with Boxer behind my brother’s back, but it made me wonder if he’d done something on his own without me.

  Josh gave me a quick little tour of his quarters again. More had been added, including all his files from Sacramento. It looked more like an office than before.

  “Josh?” I asked as I removed takeout from the bag. “I just want to say I’m sorry about last week. About the moving-in issue and me just leaving like that. I was kind of a brat about it and want to tell you why.”

  He gestured for me to sit, so I did. Admitting you’re an asshole is difficult, but after explaining it to him, he pulled up another chair and sat.

  “I know, Jolie, which is why I didn’t want to pressure you. You have nothing to apologize for. You were right. I was trying to step in and fix things. I understand being successful on your own is important to you. I get that you want to exercise some independence?”

  “Yes, but it’s more than that. I think I feel extremely self-conscious when it comes to my life and the failures in it.”

  “Failures? No, no, no.” He adamantly shook his head. “You haven’t failed at anything. Shit happens. To everyone. There’s nothing for you to be ashamed about. And…especially not with me.”

  I took a deep breath, gratitude flooding my chest. I was lucky to have someone who was not only straightforward, but also fair and objective. It was taking some time to get used to that.

  “Chris was always so…wordy,” I said carefully, feeling the need to expound. “His strength was talking, preaching—and he knew just how to sell me the right way. He was in advertising, for shit’s sake. It was his job to sell anything to anyone. But he also had a way of bringing up my own weaknesses or actions to justify his behavior or to counter my complaints. Essentially, I was trained to accept what I was being told; accept that I was the one being unrealistic. Looking back, I know he was an expert at talking his way out of everything. I see that now, and that’s why I’m trying so hard to rebuild myself—without someone telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. I don’t know how to navigate that with you,” I admitted. “You’re so easygoing and matter-of-fact, and I’m afraid of quickly agreeing to things because I don’t want to fall back into old habits, but I also do want to be collaborative. You know? As a couple.”

  He moved his chair closer to mine, taking my hand. “Knowing you’ve been talked down to so much really upsets me. I honestly want to kick his ass for that.”

  I knew how he felt, and because I also knew he was too composed to do something so antagonistic, I wasn’t worried about him actually following through with that.

  “But he can go fuck himself, okay? You will never have to worry about that with me, Jo. As long as we say how we feel and respect one another’s views, we’ll be okay. The last thing I want is for you to feel backed into a corner, but I also don’t want you to oppose me just because it’s your reflex.”

  My reflex. I had to think about that for a second. He was right. Chris had trained me to be submissive because I had allowed it and it’d become automatic. I liked to be agreeable, but sometimes being compliant wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  The truth was, I wanted to do things for Josh because he was
so reasonable. I wanted to go out of my way to make him happy, wanted to support him and make him smile. I wanted to put him first and consider his feelings because it’s what I felt in my heart.

  I wanted to; it didn’t feel like an obligation.

  I rose to my feet and motioned for him to do the same. He did, eyeing me cautiously at the same time. “I just want you to hug me,” I whispered. “Please?”

  He gave me a soft smile and took me in his arms. “You don’t even have to ask. I always want you in my arms.”

  And with that, as he held me firmly against his chest, a simple peace skated through me. I was enveloped with comfort and assurance in every corner of my body and soul. The sweet eighteen-year-old I once knew was now a man who, in his own experiences, had gained a perspective on love and life that I’d needed to complement my own.

  We might have never learned to appreciate one another if we hadn’t gone our separate ways.

  “You’ve turned out to be quite a comprehensive man, you know?” I said, hugging him back.

  “Comprehensive, huh? And what exactly do you mean by that?”

  I enjoyed the sensation of his body against mine, allowing myself to feel cherished and protected—two things I’d always craved.

  “You’re the real deal, Mr. Cameron. The complete package.”

  He slowly nodded as he pulled back to study me. “Thank you. I think that’s probably the best compliment a man can receive. That, and the fact that he’s a monster in bed.”

  I knew that was coming, and I laughed. “Well, yes, I can attest to that, as well. Go ahead, keep fishing for compliments.”

  He grinned, but it progressively turned softer as his eyes searched mine. “All I want is for you to be happy. It’s honestly the most rewarding thing in my life.”

  There were no words to respond to that. Instead, I gave him a simple kiss and wrapped my arms around him again. It felt like a significant moment, like any second either one of us would confess those three mammoth words. I was ready for that, I truly was, but there was one thing I needed to set on the table.

  I pulled back and sighed. “I have something I need to tell you.”