“She leaves Sunday afternoon, but I already have plans for Sunday night.”
He was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, “Are they with James?”
James and I hadn’t actually agreed to spend Sunday night together, but I figured he’d spend the night on Saturday so he wouldn’t have to drive back to base in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to lie to Justin, but I didn’t feel right seeing them both in the same day. I didn’t know how to explain that to him, so I simply said, “Yes, they are.”
“I suppose that’s what I get for letting it slip my mind and not asking sooner. I’m really sorry, Peaches. I’ve gotten all turned around this week.”
I was sure he had. “It’s fine, Justin. You’ve been there for all the others. We’ll celebrate next weekend or on Wednesday. I’m going to get going now, though. I’m tired, and I need to be at the airport to pick Laurel up at nine a.m.”
“Oh. I was hoping to at least get a little time to catch up with you, but I understand. It is getting kind of late. I hope you two have a great time. Please tell her I said hello.”
“I will. Have a good night, Justin.”
“Sweet dreams, Peaches,” he said, then broke our connection.
I put the phone down feeling sad. He had never forgotten my birthday from the time he found out when it was. Granted, that was only four years ago. Nevertheless, he usually teased me with the idea of his present for days leading up to it. I’d go out of my mind trying to figure out what it could be from the little hints he’d give me. He didn’t even do that at all this year. If this was how I was going to feel if he saw other people, I contemplated rejecting the idea of there being more between us. Maybe it wasn’t other people so much as it was the fact that Delia was supposed to be my friend. This new relationship, or whatever it was, didn’t speak well for either of them. Not knowing Delia well, I couldn’t exactly feel betrayed by her. Justin, on the other hand, well that was shaping up to be a different story.
Tired of thinking about it for the night, I gave up and got ready for bed.
I was waiting for Laurel outside baggage claim when her flight arrived at nine-fifteen a.m. She came skittering through the area dressed in a flowery sundress reminiscent of the nineteen-fifties, red sling-back pumps, and carrying a wide-brimmed red hat. She threw her arms around me in a great big hug, squealing like a little girl. “Meeeeemster!!!!!! I’m so happy to see you!” she exclaimed.
I laughed and hugged her back tightly. “It’s fantastic to see you, too.” I grabbed her hands and stepped back from her looking her over from head to toe. “Who are you, Lucy Ricardo?”
She giggled and hit me in the chest with her hat. “I’m going retro these days. Don’t you think it’s me what with my red hair and all?” she said, striking a pose.
“Laurel, everything you do is very you.” I said, grinning.
“It’s all I know how to be, sister. Now, let’s find those bags and get on with the fun.”
After we’d gotten home and gotten her settled in the guest bedroom, she changed into a much more comfortable outfit of flip-flops, shorts, and a hot pink t-shirt that said ‘I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in’ on it.
“So, what would you like to do first?” I asked.
“This is your weekend, sweetheart. You’re thirty tomorrow! I have plans for us tonight, but for the day, we can do what you like.”
“In that case, why don’t we go over to Venice? I haven’t been there in ages. We can do some shopping and grab lunch while we’re out.”
“Oh goody!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down while clapping. “We can go watch the body builders get sweaty at Muscle Beach.”
“Naturally,” I replied. “What do you think I meant by shopping?” I said with a wink.
“I never have to wonder why we’re friends, Mimi. You think just like me.” She laughed.
We spent the rest of the morning strolling along the Venice Strand watching the colorful people (street performers, skateboarders, beach bums, and the like) and going in and out of the shops that lined the sidewalk. Most of the items for sale were touristy stuff, but Laurel had a blast buying kitschy items for her work friends. We eventually happened upon Muscle Beach, a well-known outdoor gym where serious body builders were known to work out. We sat and watched for at least an hour making lewd comments to each other.
After the sun and exertion began to take their toll, we decided it was time to head home and rest up for whatever Laurel had planned for the night. She insisted I was going to need a lot of energy so a nap was advisable. We arrived back at my place around four p.m. She said we had time to sleep for about two hours, but we had to be ready to leave by seven-thirty. She was very cryptic about our plans, but apparently we were getting dressed to the nines.
I woke up just after six, feeling refreshed and a little bit hungry. To my surprise, Laurel was already up and in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee. “I sure hope we’re going to dinner, because I’m starving,” I said.
Laurel looked at me blankly. “You know, I forgot all about eating. We don’t have time to get anything to eat. We’re going to see a show that starts at nine, but we have to be there by eight.”
“You? Forget about food? In what dimension does that happen?” I asked sarcastically.
“I know, right? When you see what I have planned, you’ll understand why I forgot though. Do you have any sandwich fixings or frozen dinners we can make in a hurry?”
I proceeded to make us both simple bologna sandwiches. They weren’t culinary masterpieces by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we wouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach. If I knew Laurel, and I did, there would be plenty of cocktails awaiting us wherever we were going. We wolfed down our food and hurried off to get ready for the night ahead.
We met back in the living room at seven-fifteen. Laurel was dressed in a stunning burnt orange, slinky mini-dress and sky-high gold sandals. I wore a sparkly beige dress with a boat neck and blousy top, with the hemline hitting about mid-thigh. My long hair was pressed straight and draped down my back, whereas Laurel’s hair was her usual riot of curls. Neither one of us looked too bad, if you asked me. If you asked her, we looked downright hot. Laurel was never one lacking in confidence, however.
We got into my car, and I looked at her. “You’re finally going to have to tell me where we’re going you know.”
She opened her evening bag, saying, “I have the address right here.” She handed me a scrap of paper with an address in Hollywood. I programmed it into my car’s GPS and off we went.
We arrived at a nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard and parked in a paid lot just down the street. As we walked down the street, Laurel was giggling to herself and practically bouncing out of her shoes. She’d been to many nightclubs in her day, and while it was Hollywood, I sincerely doubted it could compete with the Manhattan clubs she was used to.
“Alright, girlfriend. Spill it. What has you so excited? Is Channing Tatum going to be here tonight or something?”
“You’re not too far off! We’re going to see The Hollywood Hunks!”
“The strip show?” I gasped.
“Yes!” she screamed. “I have been dying to go to a strip show ever since I saw Magic Mike.”
“You know the guys in these shows are all gay, right? Straight men who are not famous don’t look like that,” I said. “Hell, even the famous ones don’t look like that unless they’re either preparing for a role or actively filming.”
“Mimi, don’t be such a downer. We’re not going to marry these guys. We’re going to admire them and maybe, just maybe, touch their sexy bodies. Who cares if they like the cock or not? I for one am not above pretending for an evening.”
I laughed outright. Of course Laurel wouldn’t care. I supposed I could suspend my disbelief for the night as well, particularly if there was vodka involved.
We got to the door and Laurel advised that she had reserved seating and wanted to purchase two specials packages. I assume
d it was for VIP seating.
The club was enormous and already filled with avaricious-looking women. We were shown to seats right near the stage, and then asked for our drink orders. She ordered a Bloody Mary while I reverted to my usual Dirty Martini. I’d decided I liked them, they worked for me, and while I may vary things from time to time, I would still stick with it as my go-to drink.
We received our drinks and settled in to wait for the show that wouldn’t start for another forty-five minutes or so. Laurel took a sip of her drink and said, “So, tell me what’s going on with this new hunk of yours.”
“Well, I told you his name is James and he’s a Navy pilot. He is…different. He can be obnoxious and drive me crazy, but he is also sexy as hell and really deep down a romantic kind of guy. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow night. He’s going to come out with us for my birthday.”
“Are things starting to look serious?” she asked.
“I am bound and determined not to get too serious too quickly. I’m not totally closed off to the idea, mind you. I am just taking each day as it comes. Besides,” I paused for a moment. “There’s someone else.”
“Whaaaaat?” she screeched. “You have not mentioned this during any of our calls. Is this new?”
“No, not exactly. This sort of began the same day I met James.”
Laurel looked at me with raised brows. I was in trouble for not imparting this information earlier. I’d be in even more trouble when she found out who I was talking about.
“Let me explain. It’s been hard to get my mind around this particular relationship because I’m good friends with the person. I have been reluctant to talk about it because I’ve been so unsure about it.”
“Oh my God,” she stuttered out. “It’s him, isn’t it? Studly McFuckerson--Vance’s friend?”
“Well, he’s my friend too, but yes. It’s Justin. He kissed me as we were saying goodbye before I left on my trip to the lake, and since then, we’ve kind of been seeing each other in a different way.”
“Mimi Ashcroft. I cannot believe you are sleeping with two guys! Finally, I’ve rubbed off on you!”
“Oh hush, you. You’re totally devoted to Pete and have been for years now.”
“Well, in my fantasies, I’m fucking a lot of different guys. Ryan Reynolds, Chris Hemsworth, that kid from Twilight.”
“Robert Pattinson?” I asked, surprised.
“No, no, of course not. The other one, you know, with the abs for days.”
“Ohhh yeah. Him.” I said, thinking of Taylor Lautner’s rock-hard body.
“Anyway, back to the studly biker. Is he any good?”
“Actually, I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far. We’ve been going slowly, because I’ve been very clear that I don’t think I’m ready for something serious, and his intentions are very serious.” I told her soberly.
“Well, to be honest with you, Mimi, I’m not very surprised. From everything you’ve ever told me, and on the few occasions I’ve come to visit and seen him around you, it’s been obvious his feelings for you ran a little bit deeper than friendship.”
“Really? That shocks me because for me this came out of left field.”
“That’s because all this time, whether you’ve realized it or not, he was still Vance’s friend to you,” she remarked. “Yes, I know he’s been your best friend on this coast, but in the back of your mind you still share him with Vance.”
“That’s probably true.” I said, thinking about it.
“So, I have to ask you, how much of your feelings toward him in this way are tied to your shared connection to Vance?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only considered that peripherally. I haven’t given it any real thought. I’ve been so busy trying not to think about things too much like I normally do.”
“To be fair, you need to at some point. If things start to get more serious between the two of you, you really have to look into that. You don’t want to make that kind of mistake with your best friend,” she said with her usual insight.
“Well, it may not matter too much now anyway.” I responded.
She leaned back in her chair and fixed me with a look. “What does that mean?” she asked.
“We don’t have time for me to tell you about it now. The show’s about to begin. I promise we can go to breakfast tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Okay, as long as you do before hunky fighter pilot shows up,” she said, pointing the celery stalk from her drink at me.
“You have my word,” I replied just as the lights began to dim and man’s voice shouted over the loud speaker.
“ARE YOU LADIES READY TO HAVE A GOOD TIME?????”
The crowd of women went wild. Just then, Laurel slapped down a wad of bills in front of me. “Welcome to the first part of your birthday celebration!” she yelled over the music that had begun to play.
“What’s this?” I hollered back.
“It’s one hundred dollars in ones and fives. It’s the first part of your present so you can tip the guys.”
I just shook my head at her in amusement. I took the money because not knowing where we were going, I hadn’t brought sufficient cash in small bills to do any tipping. I vowed to slip a hundy in her wallet before she left on Sunday.
The time passed in a blur. What I thought had been a fee that Laurel paid for VIP seating at the door turned out to be for our personal participation in the show. During a particular point in the performance, both she and I were pulled up on stage and seated in chairs. Six dancers surrounded us gyrating wildly and taking turns giving us lap dances. I was a little overwhelmed by the experience and mainly sat stiff in my seat, while Laurel was totally into the groove, her greedy hands exploring every body that came within reaching distance.
After it was all over, we filed out of the club along with everyone else. Laurel had consumed her fair share of alcohol while I’d only had two drinks since I had driven. “In hindsight, we should have taken a cab for this,” she slurred a little bit. “That way you could have gotten a bit looser and enjoyed your time a little more.”
“I enjoyed myself just fine, Laurel. In fact, I had a terrific time.”
“You sat there as wooden as Pinocchio when we were up on stage!” she exclaimed a bit too loudly, her hearing affected by not only the alcohol but because the music had been so loud. A couple of ladies in front of us turned around and nodded while smiling at me.
I politely smiled back, then whispered to Laurel, “Hush. You are talking way too loud. I can’t help it if it I was taken aback by the whole situation. It’s not like you prepared me in advance.”
“But that wouldn’t have been any fun!”
“For you,” I remarked dryly.
She giggled. “Of course not. Seeing you sitting there nearly ready to pee your pants was worth every dollar.”
“Sometimes you really suck. You know that, don’t you?”
“Sure I do. Just ask Pete,” she said and cackled in her typical Laurel style. “Alright, now what should we do? It’s only eleven. Far too early to go home.”
“We should have stayed for the dance club portion of the evening.”
She grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Oooh, let’s go back. Some of the dancers may still be hanging around.”
“We might have to pay the cover-fee again.” I warned her.
“Oh who cares if it means I have a chance to dance with that sexy fireman. Somebody needed to turn the water on him because he was ‘smokin’.” she said, muttering the last part to herself.
We made a U-turn, Laurel tottering unsteadily in her heels. I wondered how she planned on dancing without falling if she was that tipsy.
We spent the next few hours dancing with random men who had come in after the show. Each one didn’t stick around much but for a song or two realizing we weren’t girls who would be going home with them. One of them even explained to me that the men come after the show because they believe the women are so worked up that one
-night stands are almost a sure thing. I quickly disabused him of that notion when it came to me.
I continued with my soda water and lemon, while Laurel dramatically slowed down her consumption. I was sure the leather interior of my car would be grateful if it knew. All in all, we had a great time before, during, and after the show. Laurel decided that a late night greasy breakfast was in order, so we found the nearest twenty-four hour diner and ordered omelets, hash browns, sausages, and sourdough toast smeared heavily with butter.
“So, sister,” Laurel began just after we received our food. “You promised me to tell me about something that’s going on with you and Justin.”
I chewed the mouthful of eggs I had, while thinking. “It’s not so much a situation between him and me as it might be with him and someone else.”
“You think he’s seeing someone else?” she asked.
“I’m sure of it. She’s a friend of mine and has been telling me about it. He even cancelled pizza and beer night the other night to spend it with her.”
“Oh my God, he said that?” she cried.
“No, no, of course not. This girl, her name is Delia. I only recently met her when classes started, but we ran into her one day when we were out having lunch which is how she met Justin. I left the lunch before they did, because I had started to feel uncomfortable with the way they were acting with each other. She made sure to tell me the next day that they’d spent the previous evening together, and warned me not to be surprised if he cancelled our usual Wednesday night date which he ultimately did.”
“Huh,” she remarked. “Well Mimi, I don’t know. I know his feelings for you are genuine, but he also had a reputation for being a player type before. So, maybe while you are making up your mind, he is just going about his usual M.O.”
“I suppose that could be the case,” I replied, “but don’t you think it’s a bit insensitive, or at least inconsiderate to act that way in front of me? And with one of my friends?”
“Yeah that’s kind of sucky,” she said before taking a bite of her toast. “Perhaps he’s trying to see if you’ll get jealous,” she suggested.
Fighting Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 2) Page 17
