He was happier without me.
“Who was that, Morgana?” My mom’s brow wrinkled as she gazed at me.
“No one, Mom. Not anyone who will cause any more problems.”
THIRTY-ONE
Morgana’s Problem
Slut Hands
My first full day back in Chicago, a graduate of the Executive Development Program, and I should want to smile. Maybe even jump for joy.
I glanced out the window of the diner and smiled at the blue sky. Despite the beauty of the day, being surrounded by my home city and friends, and with my dream achieved, I wasn’t cheerful. Perhaps it’s jet lag or too much of my mom’s cake last night as she threw a celebration dinner for my arrival.
The dinner made me happy not because of the food, although the cake alone would make anyone joyful. It was seeing my family and Aria, who brought her new boyfriend Alexander, which made the night great.
As for Alexander, I could see why Aria wanted to keep him around. A super-hot, reclusive rich guy that we nicknamed hypno-eyes due to having eyes so gorgeous anyone could become mesmerized by them. Even though I was happy for Aria, that creeping itch of jealousy seemed to mar my mood. The celebration was for me, and all I thought of was Henrik.
So, of course, I did something stupid. I called Henrik.
Just before the party got underway last night, I went for a walk around the neighborhood and dialed his number. That’s when I heard the very female voice in the background. Come to think of it, she sounded extra female, like even her arms and legs had vaginas. She may have even been drooling. Yeah, almost positive the sounds of female drool dripping down her overly feminine chin was making it hard to hear him.
Aria and I had just finished lunch in a diner just off of Lincoln Park. We went to the cash register to pay our bill. We were discussing the weird and erotic conversations her and Alexander have. As odd as they were, she was happy. Which she deserved and I was ecstatic she found a great guy, but I missed what Henrik and I had. As crazy as it was, it was ours.
I gave Aria a twenty-dollar bill and told her I was going to wait outside, giving the excuse of needing fresh air. Why I really left her side was so she didn’t see the tears that started to fall from my eyes. I’m so angry at myself for crying over a man who used me and had quickly moved on.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head and tried to put Henrik out of my mind once I stepped outside. I turned to glance up the street. That’s when I noticed a couple that made my heart plummet to the ground and skid into the street. There was barely any humidity in the air and yet it felt like I walked into a tropical jungle while wearing a wool dress.
As they came closer, unaware I was staring at them, I took note of his dark gray suit pants, a light gray shirt, and red tie. The same red tie I pulled off Henrik’s neck many times.
Henrik had his hands in his pockets with a smile on his face as the woman, with a cute little blond bob, wrapped her slut hands around his arm.
That’s right, I said slut hands.
She must have been the drooler from last night. I wanted to go over there, shove her away, and slap him. Then, I wanted to make-out with him.
Damn it. I’m going to find a doctor that could give me something for my overly horny vagina.
“Morgana!” Brain piped up.
I really didn’t want a lecture right now from Brain about how I was being judgmental and that I knew nothing about that woman.
Look, Brain, I know I am being too critical of her right now, I’m just hurt, all right, I explained.
“Oh no, Morgana, she is clearly a slut. I was just going to tell you that if you want to get rid of her, I am more than happy to help you out.” Brain was eyeing the blonde with suspicion.
What? Maybe I should just talk to him. Perhaps he got a job and she’s a coworker? He could be interviewing for the job and they just finished a lunch interview. I would ruin it if I went over there and acted jealous. Besides, we aren’t together anymore. He made that quite clear to me. He can see whomever he wants. I tried my best to convince Brain and myself.
“Or you could cut her!” Heart piped up, and I noticed hatred in her eyes as she stared at the blond.
Whoa! I think I will just have a rational conversation like a normal person. I shook my head.
“And who has an interview for a job on a Sunday, Morgana? Look, whatever you want to do is fine by us. But know this, we will support you whatever, or however, you choose to handle this. And by handle, I mean take care of. And by take care of, I mean cut a bitch—” Brain surprised me by going along with Heart, who was nodding her head in agreement.
Ladies. Please. Just, stop.
“Hey, Morgana. You ready to head ba . . . Is that Henrik?” Aria happily skipped out the door with her belly full of ham and cheese until she noticed the couple coming toward us.
“Yup.”
“Who is that slut he’s with?” Aria demanded.
“We told you, Morgana. I think they sell knives in the 7-Eleven,” Brain added.
“You know what? I am not going to cut anyone, so let it go,” I yelled.
Aria turned her head to me, scrunching her brow in confusion.
“What are you talking about, Morgana? I said slut not cut.” Aria slapped me on the back as her deep laugh made me wonder if she hid smoking from me.
I turned my attention back up the sidewalk and noticed Henrik squinting as he gazed in my direction. My eyes darted around before I dashed behind a parked car beside the curb as Aria stared at me. She nodded in acknowledgment and ran back inside the diner to watch through the glass window.
Hearing a rumble as a surge of heat raced over my face, I gasped as the car I was behind started. Thick clouds of exhaust blasted around my line of sight. Closing my eyes, I struggled to breathe as the car pulled away. Thankfully the movement of the vehicle pushed most of the fumes away, and I took a deep breath of partially clean air, which was followed by intense coughing and gagging.
“Morgana?” Henrik’s deep voice filtered through the thick fog like death itself. For a moment I was thankful to be alive until I glanced up to see his cool stare with slut hands hanging on his arm.
Gaining control of my breath, I turned my attention to the ground and frantically perused what it had to offer. A small metallic wrapper, torn along the edge, caught my eye and I swooped in to snag it. In triumph, I stood and held the wrapper in my hand like an Olympic medal.
“There it is.” I made my way over to Henrik. “Fell out of my hand. Thought I lost my lucky . . .”
My smile faded as I examined the wrapper further.
“Your lucky what, Morgana?” Henrik’s lips were pursed into a white line as his shoulders shook.
Smug bastard.
“Condom wrapper. My lucky condom wrapper. Doesn’t everyone have a lucky something? If you think about it, what is worse, a lucky rabbit’s foot, which is morbid by the way, or the wrapper from the condom you lost your virginity to?”
Made sense. Perhaps a bit disgusting but what did I have to work with? Since I just noticed the used condom was the only other thing on the ground, I believe I made the better choice.
As it sunk in that I was touching a used condom wrapper, I dropped it instantly and rubbed my hand on my jeans.
“Oh no, Morgana. Your lucky wrapper is blowing away.” Henrik pretended like he was trying to catch it.
I ignored him and turned toward slut hands.
“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Morgana Drake. I used to be Henrik’s assistant.”
I realized I didn’t even know this woman and I was already judging her harshly. Just because Henrik broke my heart didn’t mean I had to hate that woman. If he has moved on and chose her then perhaps I should feel sorry for her instead. She was the one who would have to deal with him. Maybe he has littered her desk with pink sticky notes too.
In a way, that made me sad. I liked to think the pink sticky notes were our thing. Maybe he only used yellow with her.
>
I reached my hand toward her to shake, but she sneered at it as if I was about to infect her with the plague. Which I probably would considering what was most likely all over that condom wrapper.
“Oh, hi. I’m Zooey Mayer. I’m Henrik’s partner.” Zooey wrapped herself around Henrik’s arm and gave a squeeze, still looking at my hand in disgust.
Partner? Like partner for life? Like sexual partner?
“Cut the slut!” Brain and Heart chanted at the same time. Building faster and louder until I shook my head to cut them off.
Right at that moment, Aria slid up beside me and mimicked Zooey’s stance by wrapping herself around my arm.
“Hi, I’m Morgana’s partner, Aria Dixon.” Aria leaned into me. At first, I thought there was a fly around my ear but soon realized Aria was trying to nibble my earlobe. It felt like a wet snake trying to shove itself in through my ear.
Pushing her away, I wiped my ear on my sleeve. “No. Aria, what are you doing?”
She pulled me aside and whispered, “Trying to make Henrik jealous. Look at him. He is staring at you heartbroken. If he can have a partner, then you can have a partner too.”
Aria did this once at my parents’ holiday party when we were in college. One of the neighbor guys was hitting on me and I wasn’t attracted to him, so Aria pretended to be my girlfriend.
“It doesn’t work like that, Aria. I don’t think he is jealous.”
I turned back to face Henrik and Zooey, just as Aria draped herself on me. Her head was on my shoulder as her hand made its way up my yellow T-shirt to cup my boob. Then she took it a little too far and brought both her hands up to squeeze the ladies and I immediately swatted her away. Aria turned to Henrik and said with a sly smile, “God, I love to snuggle up to Morgana’s boobs at night. Like two big, soft pill—”
An urgent need to shut this down compelled me. “Okay, Aria, haha. Very funny. The joke is over now.”
Now I wish the car had killed me.
As much as I didn’t want to face Henrik at that moment, my eyes betrayed me. It wasn’t his face that I took note of, but his penis, which was tenting his pants and pointing straight at me. Trying my luck with Zooey, hoping she wasn’t aroused by this, I was proven right. But that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Her eyes danced between Aria and me as if we both had the plague.
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t mean that type of partner. I meant business partner.” Zooey’s words only emphasized the dismissiveness of her actions. She was waving her free hand at us and shaking her head.
Even as Zooey appeared as if she might throw up and Aria continued to squeeze my boobs but now with honking sound effects, I felt utter relief.
Henrik wasn’t with Zooey.
He was single.
Zooey brought her wrist up and looked at it as if there was a watch there. “Oh jeez, would you look at the time. It’s late and I have to get back to the office. Thanks, Henrik, for a great lunch and we will talk more about your aerial ideas. It was . . . um . . . interesting meeting you both.” She leaned in to shake our hands but halted to wave bye instead before turning to leave.
“I think that was the most awkward end to a business meeting I have ever had,” Henrik said, his eyes focused on me.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think the one where my boss came in and saw the empty condom wrapper on the table after you left was pretty awkward.” I smirked at him as he winced.
“Now that my work here is done, it is time for me to leave. We’ll talk later, Morgana.” Aria winked at me but gave Henrik an evil glare before turning in the direction of the lake and walking away.
“At least I know how you got your fascination with condom wrappers,” Henrik said.
“So funny. Is that your latest job? A comedian?”
“No, Morgana. Comedians are lonely, jaded people—”
“So, you would fit right in.” I curved my lips but despite the low simmer of anger pushing the words out of my mouth, there was a twinge of regret too.
This anger wasn’t me, I needed to let him go. Henrik had moved on and based on the smile on his face and joking words, he was happier too.
It’s time that I found my happiness.
Even if Henrik wanted me with him, would I even go back now?
After letting me think Tiffany was his girlfriend, never telling me I hadn’t been fired from Mimir, letting me get hired and fired from another job because of it, and finally, stealing my idea and saying those terrible things about me to save his job; why would I ever give him another chance?
Based on Henrik’s actions, Trevor seemed more of a catch.
“I guess I deserve that.” Henrik took my hand.
Part of me wanted to pull it away and scream for how he treated me. But the other part, remembered how my hand fit perfectly into his . . . How his fingers curled and gripped anything so he could hold on while opening up about his family, his past.
Sometimes I thought the only way Henrik knew how to show affection was touch. Maybe the bliss he gave me in a New York bathroom was his way of telling me he cared.
“So, Zooey? You two seem close for just working for the same company.”
I didn’t want to ask but I had to know.
“I’ve told her we only work together, but I guess she is the touchy-feely type. But without her my company wouldn’t be where it is, so I let her give me a hug now and then. She’s from California so that might explain it.”
I nodded. “Yeah, my roommate in New York was from California. He was very handsy. I had to explain to him I was only there to learn and work, not anything else. It turned out okay as he found many women to occupy his spare time. I just wish the apartment was bigger and I didn’t have to hear the occupation.”
I snorted but Henrik didn’t laugh. He appeared muddled and scratched his head. “Did he have blond hair? Sort of tall and skinny?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you know Jamie Novak?”
“Just a lucky guess.”
Now I was confused, but Henrik’s face brightened. His mouth broke out into a smile so wide I thought his head might break in half.
“Wait, you mentioned you had a company? When did that happen?”
“I’m glad you brought that up, Morgana.”
THIRTY-TWO
Payne’s Rule
Show don’t tell but leave the good stuff for the end.
Morgana’s with me in my apartment.
She was standing in my office, staring at my desk.
The little crease between her brows, the one I wanted to lick and was in danger of leading my tongue to more delicate places, was deep with concentration.
She was reading my paperwork, and I didn’t think there was anything sexier. Nothing right now could fill my heart with more joy than watching her rifle through my documents.
Morgana reached for another folder, flipping it open to find aerial shots and I wondered if I might cream my pants.
Damn, her fingers grazing my work was hot.
“Henrik, I’m confused. Where’s Winston?”
A shot of fear softened my desire as I knew this moment would come. As happy as I was that she agreed to come back to my new apartment so I could show her the plans for my company, I dreaded how she would take the changes in my living space.
In truth, I was nervous to show her both my idea and my new place. The idea that took root on the plane ride back from New York when I spied her and Jamie together.
Jamie. I was thankful she wasn’t with him. When Morgana told me he was just her handsy roommate and nothing more, I wanted to do cartwheels. But, in a way, I had to thank him. If I didn’t think they were together, I would never have come up with the idea for the company.
“I needed to downsize, Morgana. To get my idea off the ground it was essential I have as much money as possible at my disposal. The sale of my condo in the Gold Coast and not having to pay Winston helped a lot financially. Now I just need a backer, preferably a bigger company, to invest and help get my idea off the ground.”<
br />
Her lip trembled as she placed the papers back on my desk. “So, he’s gone. Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “No more, ‘very good, Miss,’ and ‘here are your tea cakes’?”
“Firstly, Morgana, Winston wasn’t Jamaican. Secondly, he never served you tea cakes.”
She clutched my shirt as a tear escaped her eye. “But he could have, Henrik, he could have. Now I will never know.” She sniffled and her eyes widened. “Oh no. I just thought of something. The bathroom.”
Morgana dashed out of the small white-walled spare bedroom that was now my office. When I mentioned for Morgana to come back to my apartment to see what I had been working on she expected me to pull out my phone and call my former driver. When I showed her that I only lived a few blocks away, not twenty blocks south at my old place, she was shocked.
Despite the building being older with an Art Deco design and much smaller condos, I believed Morgana liked the cozier feel. She commented how much she admired the dark wood trim and wrought-iron details.
She made her way back into my office, her shoulders slumped forward. Moving toward her I gently grasped her arms. “Are you all right, Morgana?”
“Your bathroom here is small, and it’s a tub shower. Why didn’t I put a ring on your old place when I had the chance? I guess I just have to marry cake now. Monogamy is better. Cake can’t be jealous that way.”
The laughter erupted from my throat as I pulled her in for a hug. I missed her. How she acted like my old condo was a palace and Winston some toy for her to play with. Her goofy obsession with cake. Even when she snort-laughed.
“It feels good to hold you.”
She stiffened, and I wondered if she ever thought of me. I’m sure she did but maybe not in the way I think of her. I thought a lot about how she was doing in the program. I missed our various movie and cake discussions. Even when I stupidly tried to avoid talking to her and put those pink notes all over her desk. I miss writing them to her.
Rules of Payne (Cake Love Book 1) Page 18
