by Lena Skye
“You’re actually answering my questions tonight.”
“I’m feeling pretty magnanimous.”
“Deep word, but I feel like it means you’d like to share.”
“Bingo.”
“How bad was it?”
“She was jealous about everything. Jealous about the attention I gave my mother and sisters.”
Mikaela couldn’t help but make a face. That was just plain weird. Family was everything, she knew this because she had none. “You couldn’t talk her out of it?”
“That was who she was, and we had to part ways.”
“Where is she now?”
“You’ve seen her around. She’s the new Hawaiian Tropics model.”
“Her,” Mikaela breathed out. That model’s legs were a million miles long. She was gorgeously blonde and tan, she had to admit.
“See, you know her.”
“So you like models better?”
“Easy access,” he shrugged.
Her eyes narrowed. Well, at least she wasn’t a model. And he was suddenly harsh, but he was tactless like that, she had nearly forgotten. “How come your sisters didn’t attend college here?”
He smiled as he dumped the pasta into the pan, drizzling it with olive oil again. “They love the beaches here, but prefer the educational system there.”
“How is your Aunt Vicky, by the way?” she interrupted him.
“She’s doing okay. She did message me, told me to say hello to you.”
“She did?” Mikaela smiled, happy she had been remembered.
He looked at her. “You look like you won a million dollars or something.”
“It’s nice to know I’m remembered.”
“Who would forget you?” he told her. “Aunt Vicky almost died and you expect her to forget you?”
“Well,” she shrugged, trying to find the right words to say without sounding needy. “Everyone was busy that day and she found the time to talk to me.”
“Because you gate-crashed?” he teased.
“Did I really?”
“You partially did that on purpose,” he said with an all-knowing smile. “You’re quite easy to read.”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are.”
“Fine, a little. All right, do you do any sports?” she asked as he took out black ceramic plates. She was glad she wore shorts, seeing it was a very casual date. They were eating by the kitchen on high stools and she liked it a lot.
He nodded. “A few. Used to play lacrosse at uni. I’ve surfed, too,” he said, remembering his sojourn a few days ago.
“You surf? Wow. I guess I’m just bad at that.”
“You’re a dancer, you’re good at dancing. I can’t dance to save my life, you know.”
“I can teach you.”
“You can do the waltz, too?” he asked.
She nodded. “I may teach hip-hop but I know the basics of the jive, foxtrot, and the waltz.”
He smiled at her as he handed her a plate with a heaping of pasta. “Hope you like this.” He also took out a decanter of white wine. “This is just in case,” he added and she laughed.
“Yeah, I’m sure I won’t be drinking too much of that.” She took her first bite and grinned at him. “This is restaurant quality.”
“What kind of restaurant? Indulge me.”
“Those star rated restaurants,” she said, trying to look for the right term.
“Did you mean Michelin star?”
“That one!”
He laughed. “Really now? I hope you aren’t pulling my leg.”
“Hey I’m getting free dinner, might as well make you feel happy cooking for me.”
“You’re washing the dishes.”
She laughed, a loud burst that sounded fun to listen to. “I don’t mind. Still cheaper than dinner out.”
“I have dessert too.”
“Please don’t tell me you make a mean cake,” she said. Then he’d be too ideal. Which shouldn’t happen.
“I bought it, it’s my mum that makes it.”
“I like it when you talk in a British accent.”
“I get confused sometimes. So my accent sounds too fake to be American or too fake to be British.”
“I still like it,” she said, then realized she had said it so calmly it was as if she had told him she loved him. She looked down and concentrated on her pasta.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Have you ever considered marriage?”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe in divorce. If you can’t work things out with simple things, better avoid marriage.”
“Did your parents get divorced?”
“On the contrary,” he replied, “they were together for twenty-five years. Which is why I don’t believe in divorce.”
“But your previous relationships were short?”
“No, my dating was short. All my relationships lasted more than six months. So that’s where the tabloids get it wrong. I’m only a playboy when I’m single.”
“You’re single now.”
“Does it bother you?”
She was quiet for a while. “I’m confused about it.”
He shook his head. “Careful now.”
“Yeah, I’m being careful.” She finished her pasta and sipped a bit of wine. “What’s your favorite color?”
He burst out chuckling. “Are you kidding me? Have we really come to this?”
“Just answer the question. You said I had to try,” she insisted.
“All right, I like midnight blue.”
“That’s pretty specific.”
“Would you like to stay on the couch? I hope you don’t mind me drinking,” he said.
“I don’t.”
They didn’t sit too close to each other. They were a throw pillow distance away from touching. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her tonight. This was something new to their arrangement. There was no television screen in front of the couch, which was surprising. They instead had a view of the expanse of the Malibu coast. Star shone in the sky as the waves softly hit the sand from below.
Mikaela found herself hugging a pillow as she listened to the lulling sound.
“Why don’t you like it when I curse?”
“It leaves a bad impression. And that doesn’t go for you alone. It sounds hostile.”
“I curse because it feels good when I do.”
“Where did you learn this?”
“After my parents died…”
He stopped her. “Let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk happy things.”
Like what? The contract ending? That he would move on so easily to other women? There would be other contracts. She was just the first.
“Do you like being alone?”
“I think it beats being surrounded by a lot of people who annoy me,” he replied.
“Do I annoy you?”
He looked at her like she was asking the most ridiculous thing. “Sometimes you do. You’re too nice for your own good.”
“I’m not. I just see the good in people.”
“You shouldn’t and that’s unsolicited advice from a businessman.”
“Not everything is business.”
“Of course it is. There’s an exchange for everything.”
She sighed. “You mean our contract. It’s almost on its third month.”
“I know,” he said quietly. He wanted to say something, but it seemed like word vomit.
“You don’t hate me, do you?” she pressed on.
“Hate is a strong word, Mikaela.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Of course it’s a no. Hate is debilitating in decision making. It clouds reasoning, even for people.”
“So you don’t hate me, but you don’t like me either.”
“I made a contract with you, I think that’s good enough grounds for liking you.”
He was answering this like a politician and it annoyed the hell out of her. She de
cided to be blunt with him.
“I don’t like how you treat me.”
“Which part of the contract did I violate?”
“You didn’t. I did,” she began.
“What?” he frowned, “I’m not really—”
“Justin?”
“What?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
***
She woke up with a smile on her face. The sex wasn’t mind-blowing yesterday. In fact, there was no sex involved at all. After they kissed, they spend the rest of the time talking, not noticing that it was past one in the morning. She had never heard him talk the way he did last night. He was animated, as if he was talking to a dear friend, or a lover. But she was his lover, wasn’t she?
Nothing was said about how she felt, but she knew he felt it. And she felt something from him as well. He was beginning to like her, wasn’t he? It was finally becoming real. It was really happening to her. Her happiness overflowed as she set about for work despite lacking sleep. The way he kissed her last night was different, like their last act of lovemaking. She could call it lovemaking now, with confidence. She wondered if he was late for work too, wondered if he felt as energetic as she did because of their first real date last night.
Her work day had gone along pretty well, and she had sent in her application for that nursing scholarship in Santa Monica before she went to work. It was an impulse decision. If she and Justin ended up together, then she would manage the daily two-hour long trip just to study, and she would do it willingly.
She was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? But she smiled while she worked, feeling that things were finally going her way, that he was beginning to reciprocate. So that cold bastard actually had emotions deep down, and she had cracked him open. She wondered if he showed that side of him to the others. It didn’t matter. She was the present. She had a feeling that contract was going to change. Feelings made people change.
He hadn’t texted or called her today and she wondered if he was busy again, and she felt better that he was. He’s working for our future, she jokingly told herself. There was no shortage of giddiness today, and she found herself texting him during lunch time, asking him how his morning was. There was no response yet, but she was all right with it.
She would resign next week, to prepare herself for classes. She had a good feeling she’d be getting that scholarship. She had, in fact, written a letter to her boss already. He wouldn’t be pleased, but he would be happy she was doing this for her future career. Mikaela wondered if Justin was all right with her chosen path. She was no millionaire heiress, she was no celebrity, but she worked diligently and with passion. She hoped Justin would find that enough.
She received a text at four in the afternoon.
Please check bank account.
Did he send her money again? He had sent her $2,000 last week. It was too much, even for someone who was struggling to get to school. Maybe this was his way of helping her move to Santa Monica. What a sweetheart.
What’s it for? she had asked.
Just for you.
And that was it. No other pleasantries. She wondered how long this was going to last, his penchant for stiff behavior in nearly everything. She shrugged it off. There was a reason for this money, and that was to help her. She told herself she’d pay him back if he ever lent a hand with her schooling. With that thought, Mikaela continued to work happily.
The Final Chapter
A week passed by and still he didn’t call or text or pop up unexpectedly. She had expected him to sweep her off on a random date, but it hadn’t happened since that night. She relished and replayed that night every few hours, desperately wanting to see him again. How sad was that? She couldn’t shrug it off so easily. That ugly feeling was back again. She was feeling abandoned. She had checked her bank account on whim yesterday and she saw $20,000 in it, which made her do a double-take. She hadn’t had that much money since her family died.
She planned to call him today to thank him and tell him it was too much, but first things first—Lynne wanted some girl time with her. She was head over heels for her current beau, Henry Nichols.
“I know it’s only been a month, but I can’t help myself,” Lynne gushed. “This is it, Mikaela!”
Mikaela laughed, masking her confusion over Justin pretty well. “Isn’t it too soon? I don’t want to see you cry for some douche.”
“I won’t,” she said confidently. “I’m telling you he’s the one,” she insisted, squeezing Mikaela’s arm.
“Ow, stop it.”
Lynne quickly let go and grinned broadly as they walked down, headed for the beach in their shorts, bikinis and lace tops. They hadn’t had sun in a while and Mikaela was glad Lynne was there to take some worries out of her mind.
They had begun to walk on the sidewalk, where numerous food stands and coffee shops were, along with a few tabloid and newspaper stands when Mikaela stopped, seeing something familiar.
She walked closer to the magazine stand and grabbed a newspaper.
“Hey, no free reading,” the man said.
Mikaela distractedly shoved coins into his hand, not bothering to count how much she actually gave. It was a sleazy tabloid with Justin’s face on it and beside him was another woman in a bikini. It looked like it was shot outside of his home.
She read through the small article with ten large pictures of him lying beside her on the sand. There were more photos of him putting suntan lotion on her bare back, of him kissing her shoulder, of him smiling, a rare and large smile. She was a model, no doubt about it, with her figure and tan. Mikaela hadn’t realized her hands were shaking and Lynne was watching her very much worried.
“Mikaela?” she began, reaching out for her.
Mikaela’s eyes were as wide as saucers, racing through the article.
Playboy Billionaire Justin Henderson Dating Again (And This Time it’s with Vida Karlovac) screamed the headline and sub headline.
Was this for real? Maybe this was an old newspaper. It couldn’t be recent. They had only had dinner six days ago. He shared things with her, they had fun together, and he cooked for her and kissed her in a way that all women wanted to be kissed…
No, no, no, she thought over and over again. She blinked and closed her eyes and saw the date. It was taken last Saturday, that day she waited for him to reply. That day he had told her to check her bank account. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t dare. Then she remembered the contract.
“I’ll add this to the contract, then,” he said. “For good measure. If I ever cheat on you, I’ll give you twenty thousand. How does that sound?”
It dawned on Mikaela that he had sent that money so he would keep to the agreement. So he had cheated on her! She had lost and won at the same time. It was a horrible feeling and she found herself on the verge of tears.
Lynne grabbed the paper from her, seeing Mikaela’s face in distress. She paused, seeing the photos, very incriminating photos of Mikaela’s supposed date. “Oh sweetie,” she murmured.
Mikaela quickly grabbed the paper again from Lynne’s hands and looked over the article again.
“Stop it,” Lynne told her. “Give that to me.”
“Is this for real?” Mikaela whispered, trying to make some sense of everything.
She had assumed too much; she had hoped for too much. She didn’t tell Lynne everything, the whole contract. All she said was they were seeing each other and that they had had intimate moments. It was obviously enough, since Lynne went overprotective and empathetic on her/
“Give me that newspaper,” Lynne demanded, pulling her closer. “Don’t cry, not here.”
Mikaela nodded and followed Lynne, who held her hand as they walked their way to Lynne’s car. It took all her strength to stop the waterworks, but once she got inside the car, the dam broke and tears flooded her face.
“Shit,” Mikaela muttered.
Lynne sat across her on the driver’s side. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Mikael
a shook her head. “No one deserves him. He’s an asshole.”
“That’s right!”
“But I love that asshole,” Mikaela sniffed.
Lynne gave a deep sigh. “Well, that’s not good for you.” So it had come to this, her friend had finally fallen in love with a man who had a reputation for changing women as fast as he changed his suits.
“I should have known,”
“But you didn’t.”
“I know, why didn’t I? The signs were all over. No, it was obvious from the start.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you into dating him.”
“No.” Mikaela shook her head. “That was my choice. And it wasn’t a smart one. I might have enjoyed that trip to London, might have enjoyed perks I’ve never had before, but I’ve never felt this miserable since-since...”
“Don’t say anything about your family,” Lynne told her firmly. “You’re smart, you’re pretty, and you work hard. You don’t need a guy like that in your life.”
“No, no, you don’t understand—”
“You love him and you can’t see your way out of this?” Lynne told her mildly. “Of course you can. Remember that horrible ex of yours? He cheated on you and yet you moved on well.”
“This is different.”
“What? He’s got a big dick and a ton of money? Big deal. What’s he got that others don’t?”
Mikaela was quiet for a moment as she dried her tears. That wasn’t a good way to react. It only showed how deep into it she was. She suddenly wanted to laugh at what Lynne just said. She also wanted to continue crying. It was all so stupid. She was stupid. She had a feeling this would happen. She told herself time and time again things would work in her favor, and yet, she had doubts. Those doubts had come to life. He had replaced her so easily, like how he gave away money so easily.
Her life had revolved around him the moment she signed the contract. She had given away her pride, her kindness and her freedom, all for him. All for some ungrateful, demented— she stopped herself, wanting to throw up from the enormity of what happened.
Did it really feel like this? When you loved someone so much and you found out they cheated on you? She never thought it would hurt this much, she didn’t even cry when her last ex-boyfriend cheated on her. Justin, he was different. She was too in love with him, she didn’t even feel the need to murder him, but she wanted to shoot herself for being so weak.
